


Night Of The Hunter

by akane171



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Mystery, PTSD, alternative universe, dark themes, horror yes you read it right, my usual fluff and humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akane171/pseuds/akane171
Summary: After leaving the army, Mon-El packed all his stuff into one backpack and began his road trip, trying to leave his past behind. But ghosts haunted his every step.Kara would do everything to keep her family’s stables on the business, even if it meant hiring a suspicious ex-military guy for help.But dealing with her annoying new employee was nothing in comparison to all the mysterious and terrifying things that were happening in Midvale.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El, but karamel all the way, others are going to be added
Comments: 137
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the wheels are set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, big thanks, unicorns, hugs and naked Mon Mon for karxmels, my beta who is going to take care of this story (also, an awesoem karamel writer, go check her stories!).  
> This story is going to be a lot different than every fic I have already written, so I'm on the edge if it's even a good idea to post it, after all I'm pretty new to this genre. I already have 3 chaps written but now I'm stuck and need some motivation to continue, but there is no sense if no one will read/like it, right? So, my dear karamelish assholes, I need an honest opinion.  
> Enjoy?

_Into the lingering dark_

_No light in my heart_

_No gleam, nor a spark_

_Into the realms of the moon_

_A bright silver spoon_

_A dying maroon_

**_The undertaker emerged way too soon_ **

_*_

The full moon was high in the cloudless sky, bathing the mountains and the valley in cold blue light.

There was no sound to be heard. No owl hoots. No soft quivers of moth and bat wings. No croaks made by frogs. No sounds were made by nocturnal animals looking for food. Even the wind stopped blowing and moving the trees’ branches, as if it didn’t want to disturb the frozen silence. 

A creature was crouching on a ledge, hiding in a shadow that covered it like a veil. 

The creature slowly raised its head and sniffed the air with a hiss through its widened nostrils, looking at the distant lights of a town. 

A wave of rage overflowed its body, making it shiver as the faraway scents reached it. A low, unholy growl escaped the snout. Drops of saliva fell to the ground. The air around the creature started to vibrate.

_Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate!_

One word flashed in its brain along with scattered memories.

But after a few long moments the creature closed its snout, the air around it becoming still and heavy again.

It was still too early. It hadn’t recovered yet. It was too weak. 

_For now._

Slowly, it drew back and disappeared in the forest, embraced by the darkness, followed by dread.

A few minutes later, the space breathed a sigh of relief and normal sounds of the night spread rapidly over the valley.

*

_Help needed in the stables_

_Call: 406 469-5669 K._ _Danvers_

“What do you think, buddy?” Mon-El asked his companion, staring at the handwritten advert that was nailed to a wooden gate. 

“A little change would be nice,” he muttered, scratching his bearded cheek.

He didn’t remember the last time he had stayed in a motel, taken a shower and not frozen his ass while bathing in some stream. A week ago? The days they’ve spent on the road had blurred into one long day filled with walking through wilderness, camping, avoiding people and well, more walking.

They'd left the forest and stopped on the crossroad. If he remembered correctly from his map, an asphalt road was heading to a town called Midvale. He concluded the paved one led to the stables. 

_Where they needed some help._

Mon-El kept staring at the advert. 

He was running out of money and he needed to buy supplies. And well, they had to stop somewhere for the slowly approaching winter. 

Besides… maybe it was finally time to return to society and interact with people again. That, or he was going to become a yeti one day. Or simply lose his marbles. 

He felt like stepping out and showing his face to other humans once more.

 _Almost_.

Working in a stable sounded good, after all he was raised on a ranch. Walking out from the forest on this exact spot and finding this advert felt almost like it was waiting specifically for him. He grimaced at the thought.

Anyway, it was not a decision he could make alone.

“So?” he asked his companion who-

Was standing with his leg raised and was happily pissing on a post.

“I guess that’s an approval,” Mon-El smiled a little and patted his husky’s head.

The road was long, but beautiful. It ran alongside a stream and a view of mountains not so far away on the left, and a wall of trees on the right. The air was warm and clean, soft wind was blowing. Watching Baree, who was snooping around, but stopping every few meters to look back to ensure himself that his human was following his steps, was strangely heartwarming.

When he finally reached the ranch, he looked around, curiously appreciating the view.

Closest to him, a small building looking like an office was standing. A little further was a nice, big, one-story ranch house made of wood and stones with a big garden in the backyard. Further was a fenced paddock with some horses on the field, stable on the side and a few outbuildings. Near the forest, among old fruit trees, a cabin was hiding.

It seemed to be a nice, quiet place to work.

But part of his brain started analyzing the surroundings.

Those bushes not so far away were perfect for snipers to hide. Attackers would come from the forest’s side. Possible exits... there were few. The best place to set landmines-

He blinked and shut his eyes. He took a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. He opened his eyes-

Just to be confronted with a harsh reality ready to kick his ass.

Baree happily ran into the stable.

“Shit! Come back here you-!”

But, of course it was too late.

He heard a loud shriek, some neighing, a tumult and a horse escaped from the building, running right in his direction.

Mon-El acted instinctively, like so many times in the past.

He calmly spread his hands and stood firmly on the horse’s path. 

“Hey, hush, it’s ok,” he said calmly, the horse stopped in front of him and nickered.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt running like that, because of my dumb dog,” Mon-El kept talking in a hushed voice, slowly approaching the animal with an extended hand and keeping his eyes on the ground.

“He likes to behave like an idiot, I know,” he stopped, his hand a few inches from the horse’s nares.

The animal hesitantly sniffed it and poked it, softly.

“I don’t smell that bad, huh?” Mon-El chuckled, stroked its muzzle and reached with his other hand for the rains. “Here we are, hmm?, everything’s fine,” with the corner of his eyes he noticed Baree running out from the stable with his tail between his legs and ears plastered to his head.

A second later, he was followed by a girl hastily looking around. When she noticed them, she jogged into their direction.

Baree whined and hid behind his legs.

“Now you need me?” Mon-El muttered and sighed tiredly, waiting for an upcoming shitstorm.

And it was a real shitstorm, because the girl was covered with horse’s shit.

Mon-El cursed inwardly, because for sure it was Baree’s fault. If she was the owner’s daughter his chances of getting the job just fell below zero.

“You caught her,” the young blonde woman said with a smile, her eyes bright and blue like comets.

Or maybe not.

“Yes, I’m sorry, it’s my dog’s fault, isn’t it? I got lost in my thoughts for a second and he just-” Mon-El shrugged helplessly.

“It’s ok, he caught me off guard. I was brushing Brandy’s hair and I didn’t see him approaching. I noticed I had a guest when he put his wet nose on my calf. I screamed, lost balance and fell on my ass to a pile of, well-” the woman pointed at her dirty clothes, and she didn’t have to say anything else.

“I’m really, really sorry,” Mon-El said, throwing daggers at Baree, who was looking very bashful, while still hiding behind his legs and uncentairly glimpsing at the girl with his most apologetic puppy eyes.

She snorted. “Shit happens.” She flashed him another smile and he almost smiled back. “But why are you here? I’m sorry, if you want to sign for riding lessons or a horseback trip, we’re closed on Sundays.”

_Oh, so it was Sunday, good to know._

“Uhm, no, I saw the advertisement, I wanted to ask about it. Do you know where I can find Mr. Danvers?”

When the last sound escaped his mouth, he realized he said something horribly wrong.

Do you know what comets are? Big rocks made of ice, flying in the cold, cold space? 

Yeah. The girls’ eyes became like that in a second, followed by a stony face, deprived of any emotions. 

Mon-El immediately knew that somehow he had managed to piss her off.

Yay for his rusty social skills.

She looked at him more closely now, noticing his worn out clothes, muddy boots, old backpack, unkept beard and not so clean hair. 

He hoped he didn’t smell too horrible and stood against the wind. 

Baree plastered his ears more to his head and whined like a puppy.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but Mr. Danvers is dead,” she said coldly.

_Ok, that explained a lot._

“Too bad, you didn’t call, because the job is already taken,” she finished, her voice dropping with venom.

_He would have called if his cellphone hadn’t run down some weeks ago. But yeah, this was how his looking for a job was going to end._

“Last time I checked, you fired Chester two days ago.”

Mon-El slowly moved his head and looked at the new arrival.

The old woman's hair was gray, her face was wrinkled, her body small and she stood unweighting her left hip. 

She also had a strong, energetic voice, fire dancing in her blue, very familiar eyes, and basically looked like she could kick anyone’s ass.

His included.

“Grandma,” the young woman growled.

“My dear, I see you haven’t finished brushing Brandy’s hair,” the old woman chirped. “You can do it while me and-” she looked at Mon-El expectantly.

“Uhm, Michael Gand, ma’am.”

“While me and Michael are going to have a chat,” she said sweetly and stared at the girl.

The girl stared back.

The old woman raised her brows with a cheerful smile.

The girl growled and snachted the reins from Mon-El’s hand with a scowl. Then, without looking back or uttering a word, she marched angrily to the stable.

Mon-El looked at the old lady, “Maybe, I should just-”

In a blink of an eye she was near him, grasping his forearms with iron grips, smiling a little deviously.

“Oh no no no, you can’t leave an old woman like me, who suffers from an arthritis hip, hmm?” she hugged his arm.

“Uhm, of course not, ma’am, but-”

“Call me, Harry. Our house is there,” she said and started to drag him strongly, like she didn’t have any problems with her hip.

But Mon-El was not dumb enough to question it. 

“Uh, yes Harry, but-”

“No buts, honey and don’t mind Kara, sometimes she loves to be a bitch.”

Wait. Kara? As Kara Danvers? K. Danvers...?

 _Shit_. No wonder why she was so pissed off.

“Help me climb the porch, Michael.”

Mon-El signed Baree to sit and stay with his hand, climbed the stairs and helped her settle down on a wicker chair.

“Sit.”

Funny how some cheerful requests sounded similar to orders yelled at the battlefield.

Mon-El sat beside the old lady who was scrutinising him with watchful, wise eyes.

He calmly stared back. Her gaze was not worse than the stares Mon-El’s drill sergeant loved to give him on his training boot camp trening.

But only _barely_ better.

“You’ve worked with horses before,” she stated after a few moments.

Mon-El nodded shortly.

“I was raised on a ranch, ma’am-”

She raised her brows.

“ _Harry_. I enlisted after I graduated high school, spent some time abroad. Came back some time ago and left the army six months ago. I adopted a dog and went for a… walking trip across the country.”

“That’s it?” she asked simply.

“Yes. If you want I can give you a number to colonel Lauren Haley. She can give you all recommendations. I didn’t violate any law, my records are clean, I left because I wanted to.”

Harriet Danvers, Harry for family and friends, stared at the young man in front of her.

He was staring back, calm and unflinching.

 _Interesting_.

“Why do you want this job?” she finally asked.

He opened his mouth but closed it without a sound, for the first time shifting his gaze and looking at his knee. Then he shrugged, a little helplessly, and unconsciously put his hand on his chest, where his dog tags were hidden.

“I think I need a change,” he answered, looking at her again, his eyes grey, sad and very, very old.

*

When Kara left the stable with a bucket in her hand, she saw the guy leaving their property, the dog happily bouncing in front of him.

_Thank God._

“You finally kicked him out?” she asked her granny, who was sitting at the porch with her legs on the coffee table and stuffing tobacco into her ancient pipe.

“I hired him,” Harry answered.

The bucket hit the ground.

“YOU DID _WHAT_?!”

“I hired him,” Harry repeated flatly, lighting her pipe and waiting patiently for Kara to stop hyperventilating, which didn’t take too long.

“You should have asked me first!”

“For what? Hearing that you didn’t approve of him like the last twelve candidates?” Harry said calmly and took a drag.

“None of them was good enough! Every time we hired someone, it turned out to be a bad decision.”

Harry didn’t say a word, simply nodding her head, listening to Kara’s describing all the horrible men and women that were hired and fired rather quickly. She could have said that all fitting candidates were brushed away without being given a chance, and Kara hired all the men and women that were all thumbs. Like she wanted to fire them and make a point.

“The last one was a drinker! And the horses didn’t like the others!”

“Well, this one has no problems with taking care of the horses. Brandy is jagdish but was tamed in a minute.” Harry exhaled a puff of smoke.

“But-But he has a dog!”

“You didn’t mind it until Mr Gand said he was here for the job.”

“The dog is going to scare the horses!”

“He's a well-trained pup, I can assure you,” the old lady smiled, remembering how one hand command made the dog sit like a statue for their whole conversation.

“The guy smelled!-” 

“He was on a road trip for a long time, also showers exist for a reason, Kara,“ Harry rolled her eyes and sarcastically sniffed the air because, in fact, her granddaughter didn’t smell like roses at that moment.

“-and he’s probably homeless!”

“Was,” Harry smiled sweetly and Kara narrowed her eyes.

“Was? What do you mean?” she asked slowly, dreading the answer to come.

“I proposed that he could stay in our old cabin and he agreed,” the old lady said, sweetly, and pointed to a small building not too far away. 

Kara stood still, panting loudly while Harry was peacefully smoking her pipe, waiting for an eruption.

Her granddaughter took a deep breath and there it came-

“I DON’T NEED ANY HELP!” she screamed from the bottom of her lungs.

Harry sighed, feeling suddenly worn out and old.

This was the first time when Kara really said what was bothering her for the past months.

“You don’t, but I do. I’m old, Kara, and my hip is killing me lately. I can’t chop goddamned wood anymore. Yes, I’m aware you can take care of our stables like no one else but that’s not the problem,” she raised her finger stopping the new wave of screams. “The point is, you don’t need to take care of everything by yourself,” Harry said softly, watching the collage of emotions on Kara’s face.

“Besides, if it won’t work out, you can always fire him,” she added flatly. “Or maybe he’ll decide it’s just not a job for him.”

Kara squeezed her eyes and made a face that suggested she was going to do everything to make his life a living hell. Poor guy didn’t know what was coming.

“But I promised him a one month probation time,” Harry smiled sweetly again and enjoyed how Kara’s face turned red. “He starts tomorrow.”

This time her granddaughter screamed and marched into the house, shutting the doors loudly behind her.

Harry grimaced and massaged her throbbing hip.

“It’s going to be fun,” she muttered under her breath, listening to Alura scolding her granddaughter for behaving like a barbarian.

Harry took another draw, recalling the talk with the young man.

It was interesting how he summarized his whole life in a few cryptic sentences.

Why did she give this man a chance?

_I think I need a change._

“Well, Mr Gand, you are not the only one,” she said and stared at the darkening sky, listening to Alura and Kara’s argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay or nay? Be honest, because I really don't want to waste my and your time for writing some crap.  
> But... tbh, real shit is going to hit the fan in the next chap. Also... fans of Accidentally in Love may... like it.  
> The name Baree is taken from Oliver James Curwood's book Baree, Son of Kazan.  
> Lyrics are taken from the song Into the Night by Sirenia.  
> The title was isnpired by Night of The Hunter by 30 Seconds to Mars.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which new friends are made but the storm is slowly gathering on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks for karxmels, my amazing beta reader <3
> 
> Secondly, in this chap there is reason number 2 while I was anxious about posting this fic and it has something to do with Accidentally in Love.  
> Thirdly, the lyrics are again taken from Into The Night by Sirenia (it's a kickass song, btw).  
> Lastly, well, suprisingly for my ass, you liked the first chap, so here we go. It means I'm going to continue. Your fault, lol.  
> Big thank you for all kind souls that stopped, read and left kudos and comments under the first chap. This one is for you all :)

_Here, where all daylight gives in_

_So cold and dire_

_The moon rise higher_

_Here, at the end of all things_

_*_

Standing on the porch, Kara took a deep breath of the cold morning air and smiled, stretching her arms. She grabbed her mug filled with steaming coffee from the railing, blew into it and took a sip. Almost immediately, the caffeine helped her brushing away the last remnants of sleepiness, while the warm, delicious liquid spread inside her body.

It was not a bad way to start a Monday, even at 6 AM, she thought, cupping the mug with both hands, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent.

Or maybe not.

She took a sip while opening her eyes and spat the coffee out, because a freaking wolf was standing like a statue not so far from her, observing her intensely.

Suddenly, it started wagging its tail like crazy.

_ Wait _ . It was a dog. A very familiar one. That meant-

Kara cursed under her breath, when she heard a loud whistle and the dog ran to the source: the goddamned stinky guy, who had just come out from the cabin, followed by Harry.

She slurped her coffee angrily, watching how the dog happily bounced to his owner like a ball on steroids and then, after the stinky guy said something, the dog disappeared in the forest. 

Kara finished her coffee, throwing daggers at the slowly approaching couple that was deep in conversation. 

“I showed him the cabin and he signed the contract,” Harry said and climbed the stairs, trying to hide a grimace. “He’s all yours,” she patted Kara’s shoulder and entered the house.

Kara put the mug on the railing and looked at the guy. 

He was… cleaner. He obviously stopped in a motel for the night and took a shower. His longish hair was washed and slicked back, but his bushy, unkept beard still made him look like a barbarian. He was wearing a plaid shirt, wash-out t-shirt and jeans. The water boots on his feet made her scowl, because it seemed he was perfectly prepared to work in a barn, much better than the past few candidates.

_ Damn _ .

“Follow me,” she said sulkily, because there was no reason for yelling...  _ yet _ .

When they silently entered the stable, Kara grabbed a spade and showed it into his hands. She opened the nearest box stall.

“The wheelbarrow is in the storage for manure, outside the stables, right there-” she pointed to the exit on the other side of the barn. “When you finish with this one, do the others. Any questions?” she asked with her brows mockingly raised.

He weighed the spade in his hand and looked at the quite long row of the boxes.

_ Ha! Thinking about leaving already? Be my guest! _

“No, ma’am,” he said, rested the shovel on the wall and went for the wheelbarrow.

Just like that.

Kara put her hands on her hips and stared after him with squeezed eyes. 

Something was incredibly irritating about this guy. 

But shoveling mountains of horse’s shit was going to change it, for sure. And hopefully, he was going to run away after a few hours, with a tail between his legs.

*

Too bad for Kara, but Mon-El enjoyed his task. 

For the most of the time.

Mindlessly cleaning the boxes from the horse manure, taking it to the storage and occasionally flicking fat flies away was much better than going for reconnaissance patrols, defusing landmines or plucking out parts of your friends bodies from your tactical vest...

Mon-El blinked and took a deep breath. 

He dug the shovel into the dung, filled it and emptied to the wheelbarrow. And repeated. And repeated. And repeated until the memories were locked up again.

The moment he’d finished cleaning the boxes, Miss Danvers appeared from nowhere and inspected all with a scowl growing on her brow. 

He calmly waited for a slam, because she looked exactly like his sergeant on the boot camp while doing his every morning bed inspection and the old marine always found a reason to scream, even when there was no reason.

But it seemed that Miss Danvers possessed a more compassionate heart. She just huffed angrily and ordered him, in a very sergeant-like manner, to change the beddings in the boxes and refill the watering and feeding troughs. 

When he was finished, she appeared again, her scowl deepeneding while checking every box. But once again, no yelling happened.

“Can you saddle a horse?” she asked sulkily.

He could. But for sure she thought differently, because while he was saddling up Scotch - an old auburn gelding - she was standing right behind his back, huffing at his neck, watching his every move like a hawk.

“Something’s wrong?” he asked calmly when he strapped the last stirrup. 

“Unfortunately no,” Mon-El heard her muttering disappointedly and he decided to screw something in the near future so she could yell at him, which was probably going to make her happy.

His sergeant was very imaginative when he didn't have enough reasons to yell.

“Do you always do things this slowly?” Miss Danvers asked, when he double checked everything.

“Better being slow than being blown by-” he turned to her to see her eyes wide and mouth opened. 

“Excuse me?” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Did you just…?” her cheek twitched dangerously.

“Erm, a landmine,” he finished lamely. “Uhm, nevermind, ma’am,” he said, when she kept staring at him like he’d grown a second head. 

Miss Danvers opened her mouth but said nothing.

“You’re free for the rest of the day,” she said and mounted the horse. “I advise taking a shower,” she smiled sweetly and rode out from the stable.

Yeah, no, he changed his mind. He was not going to screw things to make her happy.

“Blown by a landmine. Landmine,” he muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

A faint echo of a laugh resonated inside of his head. 

“Oh, fuck off,” he groaned and left the building. 

As long as she didn't fire him for his dumb lines, she could think about him as the weirdest, grossest and stinkiest dude on Earth.

He came out just to see Miss Danvers’s disappearing among the trees, riding North into the mountains' direction. On the paddock, Harry was giving a riding lesson to a teenage girl. He passed them and went to his new home.

The cabin was not big, but spacious enough for him. 

One big room with a couch, a table and two chairs, few shelves, a wardrobe and a fireplace. Small bathroom and kitchen, with cupboards full of utensils - it was more than enough for him. He only needed to do some cleaning, because it seemed as though the cabin had not been used or ventilated for years.

He came out and whistled loudly, but Baree didn’t appear. He was probably roaming around, doing his own recce, pissing at every tree and stone he liked within 10 klicks from the ranch. 

Mon-El put two bowls on the porch, filled them with water and dog food and then started tidying his new home.

*

Kara tried to enjoy her ride, but there were too many thoughts clouding her mind. Bills, loan to discharge, Harry’s hip condition, the new annoying employee - who, unfortunately, didn’t mind digging in horse shit, which meant she needed to figure out more advanced methods to get rid of him. 

Thankfully, Scotch knew the path, he’d travelled it hundreds of times and could apathetically walk without any guidance. 

They were on the one of the three main paths used for horseback trips. It ran along the stream in the bottom of a shallow gorge and led to the hills from where a scenic view of the mountains could be seen, a valley and Midvale in the distance. 

Unfortunately, sometimes after heavy rains and storms mud and rocks were sliding from the gorge’s walls and blocking the passage. Several storms had passed over the area in the past few days, so Kara needed to check if the track was passable. 

And well, it was an amazing opportunity to leave the stables and miss meeting with  _ someone _ .

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice Scotch stopped. Only his quiet neighing snapped her out of her daze.

On the path in front of them, a big wolf was standing. 

Suddenly, the animal started wagging its tail and plastered its ears to its skull.

“You again,” Kara groaned and rolled her eyes, watching the dog happily approaching them and stopping on Scotch’s side. 

He opened his muzzle, let his tongue free and tilted his head, looking at her with a comical expression, she just had to laugh. How she mistook this goof with a wolf was a mystery. And well, having company was not a bad idea.

“Want to join me?” she grinned when he jumped a little, clearly excited. “So, lead the way, buddy.”

He barked and pulled ahead, snooping around the bushes, peeing on an enormous number of rocks and trees and chasing some butterflies.

Kara smirked, thinking of how in the world that dog could have such a boring and annoying owner. 

Ok, thanks to his boring personality devoid of any emotions, the horses liked him, which was not a good thing, and he knew how to handle work at the stables. He was working hard, not avoiding or minding digging into horse’s crap. Her glaring didn’t seem to affect him either - he was completely unfazed. 

Making him lose his shit suddenly felt like a challenge. 

But seriously, what was with that weird blowing comment? Landmine? Was it some bizzare way of flirting? He wasn’t suggesting anything, ugh, sexual, right? God, she hoped not, because for sure she didn’t need another drooling idiot at the stables, but nah, he was probably just... strange like that. What to expect from a dude who had spent god knew how long in the woods. She needed to check his contract and learn things about him, because forcing him to leave before the end of the probation might have been harder than she expected. 

Her musings were interrupted by Scotch neighing again.

Kara looked at what was in front of them and sighed.

Sniffing the air, Baree was standing on a landslide that was blocking the path.

It was not massive, but there was no way an amatour rider could cross it. Besides, it would be dangerous for the horses. 

_ Another problem _ , Kara groaned.

But suddenly, an idea blossomed in her head and she smiled mischievously. The landslide had to be taken down and she already knew who was going to do it.

*

At some point Baree stormed into the cabin and sniffed all of the corners, leaving muddy stains on the wet and recently unclean floor. But at least he didn’t pee on anything. 

Then he ate his food and lay on the porch, panting happily. 

Mon-El sighed, cleaned the floor again and went to take a cold shower, because, yay for him, a boiler was broken.

After that, he sat on the wooden stairs and ate a chicken sandwich he had managed to buy the previous night, along with food for Baree and waterboots.

Sitting on the wooden stairs, he got a long forgotten feeling that he was where he should have been. But  he brushed the feeling away. He was not a kid anymore and  _ this  _ stuff should have been buried deeply. He was too old for this spooky shit.

To distract himself, Mon-El stretched his arms. His muscles and back ached, he was tired but calm and almost content, just sitting there, in the late summer sun. 

Maybe it was a good idea to grab his bokken and train a little?

But well, his dog had better ways to spend an evening. 

Baree dug out his favorite tennis ball from Mon-El’s backpack and demanded a throw. Mon-El sighed and threw the ball. Again. And again.

Around the twentieth throw, by the corner of his eye, he noticed movement in the bushes and got the familiar feeling of being watched. 

But no alarms rang in his head, so he kept throwing the ball, waiting patiently. 

When the ball landed among redcurrant bushes and Baree couldn't find it, a light cough was heard on Mon-El’s side.

“Yoh.”

He turned his head and looked at the new arrival. 

The skinny boy was around 10 years old, with mussed blonde hair, tanned skin, bruised knees and elbows that suggested that troubles loved to find him. One look at his bright, intense blue eyes hidden behind glasses and it was pretty obvious who was at least one of his parents.

“You’re Mr Gand, right? Harry told us we have a new employee who stays in the great grandpa’s cabin. Can I sit? Thanks.” 

Mon-El blinked because the boy didn’t even wait for his answer, just sat beside him, keeping some distance. 

And then he just kept blinking for some time.

“My name is TJ and Harry is my great grandma but she hates how it sounds so we call her Harry which is not her real name because her real name is Harriet which is pretty cool if you ask me because no one in our school has such a cool grandma and all kids think she’s a he because of the name but whatever you stay here in the cabin it belonged to her husband did you know? He’s lived here every time they fought and she kicked him out from the house and mom said it happened a lot and he lived here sometimes for few weeks and probably felt very sad but I’m not sure because he died before I was born so I never met him but I would feel sad and alone in his place but I hope you won’t and by the way what is your favorite dinosaur?” 

Mon-El stared at the boy, trying to process all the information that was flooding his poor overwhelmed, not prepared for this kind of word bombing, brain. After a dozen of blinks he realized that the boy did ask him a question. He just didn’t remember what it was.

“My what?” he asked hesitantly, having a feeling he didn’t catch a lot from the little guy’s monologue.

“Your favorite dinosaur,” the boy repeated and stared at him intensively, like Mon-El’s answer was the most important thing in the entire universe.

Mon-El felt anxious for some reason.

“Uhm,” he scratched his chin trying to turn on his brain and remember any damned reptile he liked as a kid. “I think, the pterodactyl?”

The boy nodded his head.

“That’s cool but I prefer triceratops but it’s nice you didn’t say T-Rex because it’s so overrated like did you see it with that had super big head and really tiny hands it looked hilarious and I really don’t get why all kids are totally crazy about it because what would it do after falling to the ground? It could not have gotten up easily and I trip a lot too and sometimes I have problem with getting up and people laugh at me and it’s not nice which makes me wonder if other dinosauruses were laughing at the T-Rexes and that’s why they were chased and eaten by T-Rexes and is that your dog?”

Mon-El, who was sweating a little already, looked at Baree, who came back with the ball in his mutt, and was standing in front of the boy, wagging his tail.

“Yes... I think he wants you to throw him the ball,” Mon-El said when the dog put the toy on a step in front of the boy and looked at him expectantly.

“Uhm,” TJ hesitantly grabbed the ball that was wet from saliva. “I’m not very good at erm, sports and stuff.”

“It’s just throwing a ball, I’m sure you are not-”

The boy raised his hand high, but the ball slipped from his grasp, hit his head and fell behind him.

“-that bad,” Mon-El finished slowly.

Baree looked at the ball, confused, with his head tilted to the side, like he was not sure if he should have fetched that or not.

TJ adjusted his glasses. His ears became red.

“Told you so,” he mumbled under his breath, for once at a loss of words.

Weirdly, Mon-El preferred when TJ was happily shooting words like a rifle.

He grabbed the ball and threw it lightly to the boy’s knees.

“Well, it’s not a competition and you can always try again,” he said simpy. 

TJ looked up at him, not saying a word for a long moment. Finally, he smiled hesitantly and threw the ball again.  This time it fell few meters away from them and Baree happily fetched it, dropping it on TJ’s knees.

Mon-El thought the boy was going to focus on playing with the dog, but it seemed as though he could multitask.

“He’s a husky, right? What’s his name?” At least throwing the ball made him talking less.

“Mhm, Baree.”

“That’s an unusual one.”

“Originally, his name was Grey Wind.”

TJ froze with his hand above his head and looked at Mon-El weirdly.

“That’s a, hmm…”

“Dumb name?” Mon-El finished and smiled when the boy nodded and threw the ball.

“Yeah, that’s why I’d changed it after I adopted him from the shelter. He didn’t really respond to it, anyway. Also imagine me, standing in the middle of the forest and screaming Grey Wind, heel!”

TJ snorted. 

“Besides, I’m not a big fan of Game of Thrones,” Mon-El said absentmindedly, watching Baree chasing the ball.

“What’s that?”

“A book series-”

“Books? I love books! I have a whole shelf filled with them! I love the whole Panda and Mr Rabbit’s Journey series and the Who Would Win it’s about animals and it’s very cool and I love Ranger in Time because the main hero is a dog and I’m sure you would like it too and what is your favorite book and is that Game of Thrones good because I have never heard about it and I’m in need of something good so?” TJ looked at him excited, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and Mon-El was blinking once again.

“Uhm...”

_ Sex, alcohol, incest, bloodbaths and more sex, yep, a great book for a little boy. _

_ Shit.  _

“Uhm, It’s… pretty boring. Old people just talk a lot and do… other stuff for old people, nothing really special,” he tried to sound super discouragingly. “But speaking of books, Baree was a dog in one of my favorite stories for kids, written by James Oliver Curwood. I wavered between it and Kazan, but well-” he nodded in his dog's direction, who had gotten bored and was currently barking at a squirrel. “I think Baree fits him more.”

TJ laughed. “So, you adopted him from the shelter?” 

It seemed that even though the little guy talked a lot, he listened and remembered what others said as well.

“Yep.”

“Why him?”

Mon-El looked at the dog, who was standing under a tree, following the squirrel with his eyes and probably wishing it would fall down, right into his mutt.

_ Why? Because he was the saddest and most depressed motherfucker in the shelter. _

“As you said, he’s a husky and I needed a companion for a long walking trip,” he answered instead, noticing a new arrival.

“Ooooh, that’s awesome I always wanted -” the boy was ready for another monologue but was interrupted.

“Timothy Jordan!”

Miss Danvers was standing not so far from them, with her hands on her hips and scowl on her face.

“Crap,” the boy whispered.

“I was calling you for the past twenty minutes. Supper is ready,” she said looking directly at Mon-El, with a face he couldn’t really read.

“Ok.” The boy sighed and hopped from the stairs. “See ya later, Mr Gand!”

“I’m sorry if he bothered you,” she said to Mon-El.

“He did no-”

Before he could have finished she caught her son’s hand and turned away.

“JJ, are you coming or not?” she yelled.

A little blonde girl jumped out of the bushes and grasped Miss Danvers’ free hand. 

She took a quick glance at him over her shoulder.

Her eyes were intensively blue.

_ Twins, huh? I didn’t notice she was hiding there like a ninja. Interesting. _

“GAME OF THRONES?!”

He blinked when he heard Miss Danver’s cry and yes, she turned and threw two daggers in his direction. If they had been real, he would have been dead.

Mon-El sighed and killed the urge to bang his head against the railing.

*

“What did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“But he’s not a stranger he lives in our cabin and is our employee also I know his name and the name of his dog and he likes pterodactyls and reads a lot of books and when I asked for some he mentioned James Oliver Curwood’s books and Game of Thrones-”

“GAME OF THRONES?!” Kara turned on and threw a nasty look at the idiot man.

“-yeah that’s what I said but Mr Gand said it’s boring so I don’t want to read it but mom can we go to the library tomorrow because I want to borrow Curwood’s books? I will eat the porridge for breakfast without crying please mom I have nothing cool to read.”

“I’ll think about it if you eat broccoli tonight. How was the weekend at your father’s?” Kara asked and regretted her words immediately, because her son fell silent and her daughter gripped her hand tighter.

“It was ok, I guess,” TJ mumbled under his breath. “He bought me a bike and wanted to teach me how to ride it, but, uhm, I was not really good at it.”

That explained his bruised knees and elbows. 

Kara gritted her teeth and took a deep, calming breath. 

She needed to have a phone talk with the sperm donor.

But, supper first.

*

“Goodnight.” Mom kissed her head and then left the room, leaving a bedside lamp turned on.

“Wow, I haven’t heard her screaming at father like that since I fell from the quad and got a concussion.” Her brother yawned from his lower bunk. “So, what do you think about him?”

JJ said nothing, thinking about the man from the cabin. 

He was… calm. That was her first impression, when she and TJ were observing him from the bushes. He was a listener, not a talker. She could already say he was noticing more stuff than common adults. She also liked his voice. It was deep and comforting. He also had a dog, which was always a pro.

_ He’s… intriguing. _

“Uhm, I think he’s nice. He allowed me to throw the ball and didn’t make fun when I screwed up. What about his aura?” TJ yawned for the last time and fell asleep, not waiting for her answer.

JJ rolled her eyes at her brother, but then sighed, staring at the ceiling.

Every person had an specific aura hovering over them and she could sense it.

For example, while looking at her mom she saw the heart of a hurricane, calm and sunny while a whirlpool of strong wind was circling around it. When she looked at her father, she sensed tension ready to snap and something that disturbed her, but that she could not describe.

As for Mr Gand...

Their grandparents took them to the sea once. When she saw it for the first time, she was mesmerized by the grey calmness under a cloudy sky. But then a storm came, changing the still water into some kind of a roaring beast. 

It was breathtaking, but so, so dangerous.

Looking at him, while he played with his dog or talked to TJ, she saw the sea before the storm.

After uncle Jeremiah died, she felt like the  _ things  _ around her _ …  _ stilled, she could find the words to explain it better. They stopped moving, like the universe was waiting for something. Or someone. 

A lot of people came to their stables and left, but nothing had happened for the last six long months.

Today, when she saw him, playing with his dog, something clicked, like a missing puzzle fell into its place. And the  _ things  _ started moving again.

JJ was just not sure if it was a good thing.

She needed to keep an eye on him.

*

It was a nice day for the old Kit. 

He went to Megan’s bar to finally spend his savings on a few drinks, and to watch some baseball games on television. National City's beloved team won, so all of the fans were celebrating and buying beer, even for pathetic homeless old drunkers like him.

In high spirits, he left the bar right before Megan closed it, gently urging him to return to his hut. She was a good lady, never yelling, serving him free dinners every time he stopped by, but never alcohol, and giving him leftovers from the kitchen. 

Now he was humming happily, taking a shortcut through the forest to his shed near the train ways, following the well known path made by animals, laughing every time he stumbled.

He stopped for a piss. Singing drunkenly and wobbling on his legs, he was not aware that suddenly all night sounds froze up, the air heavy and the darkness thickened.

Fighting with his fly, he didn’t notice a shadow crouching on the path behind his back, soundlessly coming closer and closer. 

When he finally turned, it was too late.

The shadow jumped without making a sound, landing forcefully on Kit’s chest. 

The last thing the old homeless guy saw was two eyes, glowing with hatred. 

He didn’t even feel when the claws dug into his flesh, broke the bones and ripped the heart from his rib cage.

By the time Kit’s back hit the ground, he was already dead.

The feast had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadah!  
> So yep, you can call this fic a mirror version of Accidentally in Love, but this time with Kara as the parent. There are going to be some similarities, but it's a much different story. You know, blood, death, angst, sex (if you are going to be nice readers)... I can't wait to kill some characters, lol. But yeah, it's going to be funny too, of course.  
> What do you think about Kara having not one, but two kids? Yay or nay? Unleash your feelings. And want to laugh? Originally I planned only TJ but it was on time when this story was just a simple romance/drama without the Stephen Kingish twist. Oops.  
> I know Mon-El acts like his s3 self aka dude who mastered a dead-man-walking-face but give him some time, he'll get better.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Chap 3 is already written, so...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, bonds are created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, enormous kudos for amazing karxmels who agreed to be my beta reader for this story and made it readable. Thank you <3333  
> Secondly, enjoy!

Baree was restlessly fidgeting with his blanket near the fireplace, not able to fall asleep. Irritated, he got up and approached Mon-El, who was sleeping on the couch. 

The dog poked his owner’s hand, but the man didn’t wake up.

Baree went to the door and put his nose in the slight gap between the door and a threshold, trying to sniff the air. He sensed nothing unusual, yet, the hackle on his back rose and a low growl escaped his mutt. 

The dog came up to the window and stared at the forest hidden in the dark, his body tense and anxious.

* 

Mon-El dreamt about the past.

Garth was sitting on the ground, staring at his bloody hands. The scent of gunpowder, death and iron was swirling around them like a suffocating veil.

 _What have I become, Mike? What have we become?_ He asked with a hollow voice, without raising his head.

 _Monsters_ , Mon-El thought. 

But, like in the past, he didn’t say a word.

*

In her mansion, Lena Luthor was dreaming about the bright future. It was close, so close and all she had to do was reach her hand and grasp it. 

No more failures. No more excuses. No more hesitation. 

_No more guilt._

She was going to change the world and nothing was going to stop her.

*

JJ dreamt about the present.

She was holding someone’s hand and walking through the dark forest in absolute silence.

With every step, dismay was slowly rising inside of her, her heart started to beat frantically, faster and faster.

She wanted to stop. She knew something horrible was going to happen and she didn’t want to witness it.

Then, under a tree, a cloud of darkness was crouching on the ground.

_No._

It was a figure, an animal that was feeding on something.

She wanted to run away, but the person by her side held her hand tightly, yet not painfully, and together they kept steadily approaching the tree.

The creature raised its head from the food and looked right at her with glowing eyes.

Eyes that terrified her to the core and sent cold shivers down her spine.

In a flash of horrible understanding, she realized that the creature was feeding on the local homeless man’s body. 

She realized it had happened for real.

The creature exposed its fangs and hissed lowly, drops of saliva were falling to the ground.

The hand that was gripping hers, suddenly disappeared, leaving her alone.

But JJ stood still, frozen in her tracks, not able to move when the creature leapt, aiming at her chest.

All she could see was the eyes bored into her, eyes glowing with hatred and intelligence, eyes that reminded her of-

Just before the creature collided with her chest, JJ woke up screaming.

*

Kara could not sleep. She was tossing on her bed restlessly, changing positions every few minutes.

She should have been here, when her ex brought the children back, so she could have screamed at the motherfucker’s face for forcing TJ to do another activity he didn’t want to take part of. 

Kara sighed and for the millionth time she realized that not marrying him after she got pregnant during her senior year of high school was the best choice she had made in her entire life. 

On the other hand, the fact that she didn’t fight for full custody, when he left for college while not giving a fuck about her, was the dumbest shit she had done, and now her children were paying for it, being forced to spend a weekend every month and some holidays with the sperm donor and his fancy family. 

Kara rolled her eyes. That was what you got when you thought a dumb teenage could have become a man and a father figure one day.

All kids needed a father, huh? _Good joke_.

He didn’t care about them for years, being away, studying, partying, travelling, living it up, doing whatever shit his loaded bank account allowed him to. And then he came back to Midvale and started to be interested in her family again, claiming he wanted to be a _father_.

Being a father in his book, was forcing his son to be a "true man" and doing manly sports, being irritated when it didn’t work, ignoring his daughter that weirded him out and acting creepy around Kara, which made her uncomfortable. Like he wanted to, ugh, she didn’t even want to think about it.

That was why she avoided him today. Which was a mistake and-

Kara’s train of thought was interrupted by her daughter’s scream.

She jumped off the bed and ran into the children’s room.

TJ was already hugging his sister, who was hiding her head in his chest.

“She had a nightmare,” he said, his face pale and worried.

“JJ?” She sat on the edge of the bed and touched her daughter’s back.

The trembling girl looked at her with wide, terrified eyes and embraced her neck tightly.

“What did you dream about?” Kara murmured into her hair, hugging her trembling body.

JJ shook her head and just sank deeper into her mother’s embrace.

She didn’t say a word.

Like she hadn’t for the past 6 months.

*

Mon-El opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. 

He put his hand on his frantically beating heart. 

He had been dreaming about the war, there was Garth sitting on the ground after a patrol that had gone horribly wrong, and then he heard a scream inside of his head that woke him up.

The scream felt horribly real. 

Mon-El sighed and turned to his side, trying and failing not to think about what all of it could have meant. 

*

“Do you know what it is, huh? HUH?”

Sheriff John Jones, who was looking at the ground, didn’t respond to the obvious invitation for a fight.

Unfortunately, deputy Schott who was taking the pictures, was not that observant.

“Uhm, a dead cow?” he said cheerfully and took another picture. And then shivered a little when the guy focused his furious stare on him.

“A dead cow? A dead cow?! It’s not a dead cow! It’s _Mr Grant’s_ dead BULL, you idiot!” Otis Graves, Mr Grant’s right hand man and his main ass-kisser never missed a chance to yell at someone.

“It’s dead and that means it has zero value for Mr Grant, ZERO! And you know what it means, huh? That Mr Grant lost money! And guess what! He doesn’t like losing his hard earned money!”

 _Of course he doesn’t, like every disgustingly rich white privileged old guy_ , sheriff thought, while staring at the corpse, trying to ignore the reek of the rotting body. 

The bull had been dead for at least a few days or so. It was killed and eaten by some big predator and then smaller scavengers fed on it and scattered the remains all over the area - it was hard not to step into a stinky piece lying on the ground. 

He grimaced looking at the rotting head, thinking about what kind of animal could have killed such a big bull. And how. Probably catching the bull out in the middle of the night.

Staring at the dead corpse, he got a nasty impression he was missing something important.

But it was impossible to say what exactly had killed the animal, especially because a few recent storms had washed out all of the evidence and tracks. Seemingly, a cougar or a grizzly bear, because John didn’t even suspect that someone would have dared to kill Grant’s precious property. Some did in the past and it didn’t end well for them.

“It’s the second dead cattle in the past few weeks! Second! Do you know what it means?!” Otis was standing now in front of the deputy that was trying to make himself look smaller.

“Uhm, actually it’s not-” 

“Thank you Mr Graves, we’ll take care of it,” the sheriff said before Winn could have slipped something out and turned to leave.

“That means you don’t do your fucking job! So better start acting like a sheriff, Jones!, or we will find a replacement for you!” Otis yelled at their retreating backs.

_Sure, like there is any other loser like him in this town, who would take this job._

“Boss-” Winn started hesitantly, hugging the camera to his chest and hopping over muddy puddles.

“Not now, deputy,” John sighed tiredly, heading to his SUV, feeling a massive headache was approaching.

Maybe Mr Grant lost two of his precious animals, but he was not the only one. A few other ranchers had lost cattle in the past few months.

It looked like an amatour of a fresh beef made Midvale his or her new home.

Opening the door to the car, he looked at the remains again.

The gut feeling screamed at him that he missed something obvious and important again.

He’d realized it after he returned to his office in the Midvale County Sheriff’s station and was pouring coffee into his mug.

No flies were swarming over the remains or maggots eating the rotting meat.

*

Mon-El guessed that his status had somehow upgraded during the night. 

After he’d taken care of cleaning the boxes, Miss Danvers allowed him to groom a horse.

Cider was a sweet old dun mare who, he was pretty sure, had fallen asleep while being groomed. It didn’t stop Miss Danvers from standing right behind his back when he was cleaning the mare’s hooves. It seemed he hadn't made any mistake, and well, Cider didn’t wake up, so the girl didn’t say a thing. Just… huffed disappointingly. 

Without a word, he grabbed a body brush and started cleaning the horse’s coat. He ignored the two daggers that were making holes in his back and focused on the gentle strokes. 

She huffed again after a moment, grabbed another brush and began to groom the other side of the horse. Well, he hadn't earned enough trust to be left alone with a horse, he supposed.

However, she acted differently today. With dark circles under her eyes, still annoyed with him, but not as intensely as yesterday, with her mind wandering somewhere else, her whole presence felt like-

Mon-El blinked and focused on his task. Once he left the army, he told himself to stop doing this bullshit and he was going to keep his promise.

They worked in silence, occasionally interrupted by Cider’s snores and farts. One time, when the fart was incredibly loud and woke the mare up, he felt Miss Danvers’ eyes on him, encouraging him to cringe or maybe even run away crying.

When he didn’t give her the satisfaction, she sighed disappointingly, and he realized she really, really, really wanted him to leave this job.

Cider fell asleep again.

What could he have told her? That horses' farts were far on his personal list of things that made him cringe? She should have tried putting him in a transporter full of guys after a dinner where only shitty beans were served. Or ordering him to walk through a market after a suicide bombing. Where a bomb was strapped to a little girl-

Mon-El crouched and started to groom the forefoot, silently counting to ten, every stroke brushing away the images inside his head.

Not surprisingly, Miss Danvers has finished grooming her side faster. She returned to his side, put her hands on her hips and once again he felt two daggers twisting holes in his back. 

She didn’t say a word, even when he was feeling the clouds of frustration her body was emitting and could imagine the comments she was making inside of her head. He could almost hear them.

Without a word, she stood next to him and helped him finish brushing Cider’s coat. And then they moved to other horses, working silently, side by side, while grooming the coats, brushing manes and tails, cleaning the hooves, checking the eyes, ears and muzzles for infections.

As for people who almost didn’t speak to each other, their work went rather smoothly. But neither of them, lost in their own thoughts, noticed.

“I’ll take care of him alone,” she said and walked into the box. A moment later she came out leading a beautiful stallion.

His color was a deep, beautiful shade of dark gold, with a stripe down his aristocratic head and high socks on his legs. One look into his sparkling eyes and you knew he was a troublemaker, ready to disseat you at the first unguarded moment. He was slender-limbed, muscles moved beautifully under his glossy coat when he walked.

The horse swished his tail and looked at Mon-El, coldly weighing him up.

The ex-soldier, for the first time in his twenty eighth summer, felt like he was not worthy of breathing the same air as someone.

“You can do whatever you want or-”

“Great, I’m borrowing Michael then.” 

Mon-El slowly turned to see Harry, smiling broadly. He blinked when she approached them a little stiffly and grabbed his arm.

He didn’t notice when she was approaching. And for sure he should have, because she was an old lady and he was the experienced soldier, who was on more patrols and recesses he could count. How the hell had she sneaked herself like that? Had he become that careless?

Harry gripped his arm thighty, leaning herself on his body.

Watching her, Miss Danvers furrowed her brows with concern.

“Are you-”

“Fine, yes, never felt better,” Harry nudged Mon-El with her elbow, so he carefully led them to the exit.

“I would avoid him like fire in your shoes, lad,” she said when they left the stable, he noticed she was limping a little more when Miss Danvers couldn't see them anymore. “Mead is a piece of mean, mischievous horsemeat and I can’t wait to send him to a slaughterhouse and then enjoy a good steak,” Harry said very seriously, but something in her voice and the sparkling gleam in her eyes told him, she would jump into fire for the animal.

“Unfortunately, he’s a big part of our high hopes and the reason these stables didn’t go on the block. He’s also Kara’s baby, so if you don’t want to be kicked out, be extra careful around him.”

Mon-El sighed, because he had gotten a bad feeling about the horse and his bad feelings loved to come true.

“Yes, ma-”

She coughed.

“Yes, Harry.” 

“Atta boy. And now tell me, do you know how to drive a stick?”

*

He did.

But 30 minutes later, after taking a short, cold shower and finding Harry’s vehicle in the garage, he started to wonder if he could really drive that _thing_. 

The pick-up looked like a fossil on wheels, stolen from a museum or a scrapheap, something that was produced when his parents were still shitting their diapers. The car was covered with rust and he had no idea what the original color was. Mon-El was pretty sure one well aimed kick to the bumper and the whole car would fall apart. 

It seemed as though Baree was not a fan of the vehicle either, because he just sniffed all of the wheels and didn’t even raise his paw. Instead, he approached Miss Danvers's SUV and happily peed on the bumper.

Mon-El sighed, imagining her face if she had seen it.

A slight shift in the space that had become a little… fuller, and Mon-El’s realized he and Baree were not alone in the garage anymore. But the alarms in his head were silent, so he relaxed his tensed up muscles and killed the urge to take a cover. 

Instead, he followed his gut and swiftly moved his head, taking a look over his shoulder.

The little girl gasped and tried to hide behind a barrel from where she was observing him.

Hearing the gasp, Baree stopped sniffing the SUV’s wheel and turned out. When he saw the girl, his eyes lit up while he hurried up to her direction. 

_Baree didn’t notice her either. Do all Danvers females move like ninjas?_

Mon-El almost smiled but the terrified look on the girl’s face made him take a swift action.

“Baree, heel,” he said in a calm, commanding voice.

The dog halted and immediately went back to his master.

“Sit, boy,” Mon-El said, made a move with his hand and Baree obediently sat on his side, staring at the girl curiously. 

Mon-El patted his head, while looking at the girl who hesitantly came out from behind the barrel, trying to compose her features and dusting her jeans dungarees.

“I’m sorry, he didn’t want to scare you.”

The girl raised her head and scowled at him, exactly like her mother.

Mon-El smiled, because what she had meant was quite obvious.

“Ok, I’m sorry, he surprised you, not scared. He gets a little too excited when he meets new people, but he wants to apologize, right buddy?” Mon-El looked at the dog who put his ears back and started wagging his tail like crazy, hitting the ground and creating small puffs of dust.

The girl put her hands into the pockets and gazed at the dog, biting her lip.

Well, there was no kid that could resist Baree, looking like a big dog version of Puss from Shrek.

“If you want, you can pet him,” Mon-El suggested gently. “He loves getting rubs behind his ears.”

The girl approached the dog hesitantly, keeping some distance from the man. 

She took out her hand and allowed Baree to sniff it, she chuckled when he licked her fingers, and finally put it on his head. She rubbed the top of his head and then moved behind his right ear, scratching the place lightly.

Mon-El could have sworn his dog purred like a cat.

The girl raised her head and smiled at Mon-El for the first time and he had to grin back.

“You’re JJ, right?” She nodded, while adding her second hand to scratch Baree, who looked like he had entered nirvana for dogs. 

“Well, I’m Mike, nice to meet you. Properly this time,” he said remembering their last meeting and extended his hand. Was she going to take his hand or not?

She looked at it and then at his face, with calculating blue eyes. He stood still, patiently allowing her to do her inspection.

In the end, she grabbed his hand and shook it firmly.

The universe stopped for a second.

“Oh, here you are.” TJ, followed by Harry, emerged into the garage, tripping over his own legs but managed to not fall. “Hey, Mr. Mike!” he grinned at the man.

JJ broke the contact and took her hand away. 

“Granny said she is going to clean the floors so we have to stay away from the house.” He approached them and scratched Baree under his chin.

“She said we should do something productive, like peeling the carrots,” TJ said, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ve told her but-”

“Timothy Jordan,” Harry said in a stern voice that Mon-El didn’t hear before. “Michael has better things to do than listening to your _thoughtless monologues_.”

“But-! Oh...” The boy blushed a little and glanced at Mon-El nervously, like he was caught doing something bad.

“You can take care of Baree if you want, while I take Harry to the town,” Mon-El said gently, pretending he didn’t notice anything unusual. “You both can practise some ball throws.”

TJ’s face lit up. “That would be awesome!”

“Baree,” the dog raised his head to stare at his owner and put his ears taut and tightly forward in full attention. “Fetch your ball.”

The husky stormed out of the garage, followed by the kids. JJ threw him a last look over her shoulder and then, both kids were gone.

*

Lena Luthor was sitting in her office, shifting her gaze from one screen to another, comparing the charts and data.

She allowed herself to smile a little. Things finally looked promising with project Myriad. Subjects were still unstable but thanks to the modifications in the Obsidian Lenses, their mental state was improving. Some more tests and she was going to be able to present the Phase 4 results to the board.

Lena almost felt like celebrating with her ten year old whiskey.

But then her gaze fell on one of the five screens where most of the charts were highlighted in red. 

She grimaced. Because yeah, that project was grinded to a standstill. If only the black kryptonite wasn't so unstable and mutating cells in such an unpredictable way… 

Lena felt as if she was close to solving the problem, but still couldn't reach it. She just hoped failure in this case was not going to ruin all of her achievements.

Now she really needed a drink.

But her attempt to cheer herself up was crushed by an unexpected visitor.

The doors were opened with strength and general Sam Lane stormed into her office, followed by a red faced Eve Teschmacher. 

“I’m sorry, Miss Luthor, general Lane didn’t-”

“It’s ok, Eve,” Lena said, and turned all the screens off, while trying to compose herself.

“General, what a pleasant surprise,” she said with a fake smile, once Eve had left the room. “I expected you to come by next week.”

“Cut the crap,” he said with a cold voice, devoid of any emotion. “The meeting with the board is approaching and I need to know if you won’t screw things up like the last time.”

Lena decided that she needed that drink to restrain herself from taking out her gun from under the desk and shooting the motherfucker.

She approached her well stocked drinks' cabinet and poured herself some whiskey. 

“We’re about to test the Myriad on the subjects again. According to all reports, thanks to the Obsidian Lenses, this time everything should work.”

“Should?” he repeated mockingly.

“Will,” Lena corrected herself. 

“Too bad your friend, Miss Rojas, died before she could have seen how her invention was going to change modern battlefields,” Lane said, watching her with a cold stare that reminded her of the eyes of some reptile.

Lena poured another glass, realizing that she hated this man like no one else on the entire planet. 

She handed him the glass. General grabbed it, for a moment both were holding it on, staring into each other's eyes.

“Yes, what a tragic accident,” she said, letting go of the glass and killing the urge to wipe her hand on her skirt. “For sure she would have been very grateful for the beautiful wreath the military sent to her funeral,” she said, and sat behind her desk.

“What about The Abaddon Project?” 

_He didn’t miss a beat, did he?_

“We are slowly improving, but we need more tests and-”

“You’re still fucked and you have nothing,” the general snarled and drank the whiskey with one gulp. “Do you know how close the board is to shut the entire project down, Luthor?”

“I do what I can,” she hissed back. “Two of my most valuable scientist died in the explosion-”

“Along with my daughter!”

“And my brother!” she yelled and stood up, the chair fell to the floor.

He approached her desk slowly and put the empty glass on it, staring at her with empty eyes.

“Then you know exactly how important it is for this project to work out,” he said quietly, sending shivers down her spine. “We have to make sure that they did not die in vain.”

He turned on his heel and left the office without a word, leaving her frozen behind.

*

Driving the old pick-up was not that horrible, except for pushing the clutch and changing the gears, which was a pain in the ass. Mon-El was not surprised that Harry asked him to take her to the town anymore.

She was gripping the roof handle so hard her knuckles became white and she was clenching her jaw while the car was bumping on the rocky road. He slowed down and tried to avoid the bumps, but she sighed in relief when they entered the asphalt road.

The atmosphere in the car was tense and he could guess why, but it was not his place to start this conversation.

“I hope the kids don’t annoy you,” she began, when they entered the town.

“They’re fine little fellas.”

“Good to hear. Just don’t mind TJ too much, he’s a sweetheart but talks too much, sometimes complete nonsense and may give, hmm,” she hesitated, struggling to find proper words. “A bizarre impression.”

 _Bizzare. Interesting label for a boy who can communicate with his sister without words,_ Mon-El thought but said nothing, just nodded his head.

“As for JJ...” Harry bit her lip, the tension in her body intensified and the voice became harsh.

“She’s not a talker,” he said and stopped the car in the parking lot, before a small medical center.

“Yes. She never was, but almost nine months ago, Jeremiah, my younger son, fell off the ladder on a harrow and-” she shrugged helplessly, looking at her knees. “She found the body. Since then, she hasn't said a word.”

He sighed and nodded again, without a word, because there was nothing to say beside empty shit like " _I’m sorry",_ that meant absolutely nothing in his book.

They sat in the silence for a few long moments, him with his hands on the steering wheel and her looking and her knees and tightly grasped hands.

“So, don’t mind the kids, even if they do something atypical, especially JJ, she’s just a little weird,” Harry said while brushing something from her eye and looking at him, with a silent plea in her eyes.

“For sure she’s not weirder than a guy who walked through the country for months, washed his ass in streams and talked to his dog a lot,” he looked at her and smiled mockingly, giving her what she wanted:

An assurance that he’s seen her great grandchildren as perfectly normal kids.

Harry smiled and patted his knee.

“Well, well, well, Mr Gand has a sense of humor, thank God,” she chuckled, opened the door and left the car while making some grunting noises.

“It’ll take me some time, so go to the Alien’s Bar, it’s at the end of the street, and eat something. Tell Megan you work for us, you’ll get an extra portion.”

When she disappeared in the building, Mon-El moaned and banged his head on the steering wheel. Again. And again.

All he wanted when he’d started his trip was to forget his past, throwing it away and to start something new.

But it looked like he fucking could not.

When JJ touched his fingers, he felt like the universe had stopped for a moment. All the sounds, scents, feelings, views - ceased.

All he sensed was the little girl in front of him. 

He saw her from a different perspective. 

In the moment their hands connected, a scream from his dream echoed in his mind. A snapshot of a forest in the night. Eyes glowing with hatred.

And there was a spark burning inside of her. The brightest he’d ever sensed in his entire life.

A spark similar to the one that was burning inside of him.

A spark of which existence he wanted to forget.

*

JJ was sitting on the cabin’s porch, watching as her brother and Baree played with the ball.

She felt content, even if she knew something bad happened in her dream last night. 

But she could not remember what it was, all that was left was an impression of something terrifying and real, but sitting in the late summer daylight she didn’t really care that much.

She felt excited.

When she touched Mr. Gand’s hand, something unexpected happened. 

For the first time in her entire life, after touching someone, she saw a spark. It was small, barely visible, but it was there, inside of him.

Did it mean he was like her?

She wasn’t sure, but for the first time in a very long time, watching the setting sun, she felt…

Hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cider is my spiritual animal, lol.  
> More spooky shit happened and I can tell you, more will come.  
> I know some things were hazily mentioned and maybe confusing, but slowly all is going to be explained.  
> I'm currently writing chap 4 and well, comments and opinions make me write faster, lol.  
> Some major shit is going to hit the fan in the next chap, we will meet some new people and you're going to feel like murdering someone xD  
> Hope you liked it! Love you all! Thank you for all the likes and comments!  
> PS Who has seen Kevin and Chris talking on youtube? Because I'm metaphorically DEAD. And the producers and writers want me to ship Kara with someone else than Mon-El? GOOD FUCKING LUCK.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it’s not so calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, life and writer's block got my ass, but the chapter, after a fuckingly big STRUGGLE, is here.  
> The funny thing is - I planned to put here at least 4 more scenes, but decided the chap would have been too long, so hopefully chapter 5 will appear sooner than later.  
> Kudos for my amazing beta reader karxmels for doing amazing job with my shit.  
> Lyrics used in this chap: The Islander by Nightwish  
> Enjoy!

Unintentionally, Mon-El moved up on his shitty career ladder.

The twins picked up a bug, and, according to Harry, they were vomiting like freshmen after their first frat party. Because of that, Mon-El was under Harry’s charge for a few days, while Miss Danvers was taking care of her sick kids. So he cleaned the boxes, fed and groomed the horses. He was even allowed to saddle them without supervision and take them to the field.

However, the blonde came every day to take care of Mead and train Soju, something Mon-El was grateful for, because the first one was too intelligent and scary for his liking. The horse basically looked like he was a fan of trampling people on a whim. Mon-El treasured his limbs, therefore he kept his distance, choosing to familiarize with the other horses.

Brandy was jagdish, but kept still if he talked nonsense to her in a hushed voice. She didn’t like bumblebees, loved being scratched between her eyes and could look at him like a hungry puppy when she spotted a carrot in his hand. 

Scotch was… the most stoic creature on the planet. He reminded Mon-El of ancient Chinese taoist masters. He was pretty sure the horse would not be affected even by a tornado. 

Cider could fall asleep even while eating, but got energetic every time he put a saddle on her. She loved having kids on her back and kids loved her too, Mon-El suspected the main reason was the not so subtle farting that made her little passengers laugh every time.

On the other hand, Baileys was too energetic for his own good and acted like the younger annoying brother, who pissed off the whole family by simply existing. Besides, the sable stallion created some weird male bond with Baree - Mon-El spotted both of them, racing each other on the paddock more than once. 

Sherry was a princess that loved to be left alone by the other horses. She would never step on mud or puddles, and would look at Mon-El disapprovingly if the box was not as clean as she wanted it to be. The way she walked or galloped was very graceful, and she even ate like a horse aristocrat. 

In contradiction, Tequila loved to roll on the grass, mud or in puddles, and one time Mon-El considered grooming her with rake because she was just that dirty. She ate and drank like a barbarian, splashing the water everywhere, and loved neighing for no reason. She probably had a food radar in her head as well, for she could sense and steal his sandwiches wherever he hid them.

Gin was a mean bastard who loved to give Mon-El heart attacks by sneaking and poking his back with his head for his own horseish amusement. Mon-El saw the sparks of mischief dancing in his eyes every time Gin managed to prank him. Not surprisingly, it seemed as though the only person he loved to bits was Harry.

And then there was Soju, a two and a half years old stallion, still trained every day by Miss Danvers, who behaved like a big bouncing ball of irrepressible energy, tripping on his own legs, following people like a puppy and not being able to stand still while grooming if Mon-El didn’t hum him some songs - it seemed like Soju was a fan of Norwegian symphonic metal.

Humming The Islander and grooming Soju, Mon-El reached a conclusion that he had no idea how the Danvers females managed to keep the stables going on. 

Feeding the horses twice a day, grooming, training and taking care of them, cleaning the barns, maintaining the equipment and giving riding lessons were just the main examples, there were far too many other things keeping them busy.

For the past few days he was dead tired in the evenings, with sore muscles and back. He’d managed to do everything that was a priority and absolutely needed - albeit barely. He was no longer surprised that Miss Danvers was doing things so fast, being tense all the time or annoyed with his sluggish pace. 

The fact that she still had energy to be pissed off was something he could admire.

Focused on his work, he didn’t notice that Baree, who was napping on his side, raised his head and started hitting the ground with his tail, creating small puffs of dust.

*

Kara stopped at the door with an unusual spectacle.

The weird dude was singing quietly to Soju, who was standing still and relaxed, with his ears pointed backwards, listening to the song, allowing the man to groom his coat. 

_Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard_

_He lightens the beacon, light at the end of world_

_Showing the way lighting hope in their hearts_

_The ones on their travels homeward from afar_

She didn’t expect him to have such a nice voice. Smooth and deep, almost making her want to hear more. 

Kara was dreading coming back to work. She expected ruins, ashes and mountains of shit like in Augean stables. She managed to make time for a few visits, between washing clothes, changing the sheets, taking care of her kids and calming them down (JJ was always crying after throwing up and TJ was hallucinating while feverish). She needed to train Soju and check on Mead, but there was no time for full inspection. 

But things… were not as bad as she expected. 

All horses were alive and groomed, the boxes were clean, there was fresh water and hay in the troughs. And now, the guy was singing to Soju, which, besides nailing the horse to the ground, was the only thing that could make him stand still.

Baree approached her wagging his tail, and looked at her with undying admiration in his clear icy blue eyes. Kara smiled and scratched his head.

_This is for long-forgotten_

_Light at the end of the world_

_Horizon crying_

_The tears he left behind long ago_

Listening to his voice fading and watching how he finished grooming the horse, she grudgingly had to admit that having someone around was not that bad. Of course, she still could have managed everything, but damn, she didn’t remember the last time she had a free day from work.

Knowing that there was someone who at least could feed the horses made her life a little bit less stressful. Maybe… maybe having him around was not the worst thing that could have happened to the stables. 

Gand lightly patted Soju’s neck and turned around to stop dead in his tracks when he noticed Kara. 

She stared at him, he stared back, unflinching and annoyingly composed as always, but… did her eyes deceive her or had the tips of his ears become a little… red?

“Hi.” She smiled.

Gand blinked and looked at the horse and at her again, like he was not sure if she was talking to him or to Soju.

He blinked again.

“Uhm, hi,” he finally said slowly, staring at her with a weird expression on his face and then grabbing Soju’s rains and walking him to his box without a word.

The back of his neck became red.

Kara's smile grew wider. 

So, there were ways to fluster this guy.

_Heh._

*

Miss Danvers was smiling, while brushing horses coats, throwing him occasional glimpses and smirks.

She was humming happily, with sparkling blue eyes.

It was absolutely terrifying, and Mon-El felt like standing on a minefield. With a grenade in his hand.

And he had no idea why.

All he did was brush the horse’s coat, right? For sure it was not about his poor vocal skills, right?

“So, who would think that Mr Silence could have such a nice voice.”

His hand stopped as he looked at Miss Danvers, who was… happily smiling like a cat that had just caught a canary.

“Thank you...” he said slowly and forced himself to keep doing his job.

Mon-El was aware that her previous cold attitude was her way to force him to leave, and he was okay with it, because it absolutely didn’t bother him.

But for sure he was not mentally prepared for a change of a tactic on her side. 

“Were you a part of the army chorus or something?” she smiled sweetly and put her chin on Brandy’s back, sparks of mischief dancing in her eyes, and Mon-El realized that his quiet, peaceful days at the stables were definitely over.

Neither of them noticed that Baree, who was lying on the concrete floor, raised his head and sniffed the air.

“No,” Mon-El said shortly, focusing on his task, ignoring the memory of him and Garth singing under the showers and joking about joining the Army Chorus, so their supervisors would have finally kicked them out for sabotaging the unit’s morale.

But he felt her eyes on him, and when he glimpsed at her, yep, she was still watching him like a hawk, definitely having caught his gaze.

She smiled wider.

_Goddamnit._

He felt his ears became hot and red and he knew she noticed. 

“So, are you planning anything for tomorrow?” Miss Danvers asked… sweetly.

Mon-El stopped brushing Brandy to look at the woman.

“No, not really,” he answered, trying to ignore the feeling that he was walking into some kind of trap.

“I was hoping a big, strong guy like you could assist a helpless woman with removing some slided rocks and mud from the road,” she smiled brightly and Mon-El realized he was screwed.

Miss Danvers called herself helpless...? And he was apparently a strong man...?

“Uhm-” 

“Great! Tomorrow at the stables at 6am, don’t be late!”

“But-”

She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a loud honk.

In one blink of an eye her smile fell and eyes widened with shock. And then they turned into two chips of ice.

“SON OF A BITCH!” she screamed, threw the brush away and stormed out of the stable. 

“Wow!” Mon-El caught Brandy’s reins, when the horse kicked, scared of the yell and the sound of the brush hitting the nearest wall.

Gently patting Brandy’s neck, he looked at the exit from where Miss Danvers had disappeared a second before, some nasty, very familiar feeling rising in his gut. 

Mon-El bit the insides of his cheeks and glimpsed at Baree, who was watching him with pleading eyes.

“Go after her,” he said to the dog, who compiled without a second of hesitation.

*

She couldn't believe her own freaking eyes. 

There he was, taking a bike out of his super flashy, expensive SUV, that was also absolutely useless on the local shitty roads. 

“What the hell are you doing here,” she snarled through gritted teeth when she stopped in front of him, a few meters away, so she would not have been tempted too much to kick his face.

“Kara,” he rested the bike on the fence and turned to her, with his bright, boyish smile that stopped working on her years before, right after she told him she was pregnant. The next day he ended his vacation, went back to college and began avoiding her, for years.

“Kid forgot the bike, so I brought it.”

Kara looked at the bike and felt pangs of irritation. It was a little too big for TJ. And for sure the seat was too high. And there were no training wheels attached.

She felt a vein on her forehead start throbbing dangerously.

“Did you seriously put my son on it? Without any buffer?!”

Adam Grant blinked confusedly, his boyish cute smile falling for a second, but quickly returning to his face.

“He just fell a few times, you can’t learn how to ride without doing so.”

“Just a few times,” Kara snapped, remembering all the bruises on TJ’s arms and legs.

“Yes!” Adam beamed, completely ignoring her tone. “Besides, he’s a big guy and I’m shocked he still can’t ride a bike.”

Kara narrowed her eyes. “Did you just suggest I’m a bad mother?” she asked with an ice cold voice.

Grant blinked again. “What? Of course not, babe-”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Jesus, Kara chill, I just-”

He made a move like he wanted to grab her arm, but jumped back, tripped and fell to his ass, when Baree appeared suddenly and came between him and Kara.

“What the hell is it?” Grant asked, still on the ground and pointing at the dog, who sat in front of Kara and was casually watching butterflies flying over the flower bed near the porch, like he was not interested in anything, or anyone else.

Yet, Adam Grant felt observed and… threatened.

Which was ridiculous, because in no way he could be scared of a stupid dog.

No matter how big it was.

“A dog, obviously,” Kara’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, when she put her hand on Baree’s head. He might have looked relaxed, but she felt his muscles were tense.

Baree made a single tail wave, when he felt her hand.

“You adopted a dog? When? You should have told me!”

“Excuse me?! First of all, it’s not my dog! Secondly, how dare you tell me what to do!”

“Are you serious?” Adam got to his feet and dusted himself. “You- you let this scrub roam around my son?! How is it res-”

He was interrupted by Baree’s low growl. Adam glimpsed at the dog and, very wisely, took a slow step back.

The dog was still sitting without looking at him, but the fur on his back went up and he bared his fangs. Nevertheless, when Kara instinctively tugged the skin on the back on his neck, he stopped growling.

Grant gulped when the beast shot him a glare.

“If it’s not yours, then whose is it?” he snapped, dusting his pants to occupy his hands.

“Mine.”

Adam and Kara looked at Michael, who was standing a few meters away.

“I’ve finished with the horses and thought that maybe I could fix the fence,” he said calmly, looking at Kara.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam snapped, sizing the new arrival.

Kara sighed inwardly. She knew that look. He was trying to decide who was the alpha male. 

“Michael Gand, our new worker,” she answered, hoping Adam was going to simply lose interest. However, one glimpse at him and she just knew he’d decided he was the male with the bigger dick, and Gand was not a worthy opponent.

Which meant he was either going to act like an asshole or aim for a fight. Or both.

 _Great_ , it was all she freaking needed, her ex, who had a black belt in kickboxing, making pulp out of her brand new employee. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks,” she said, praying for Gand to just go away. Weirdly, almost like he could read her mind, he nodded shortly and turned to leave.

But well, her fucking ex had different plans.

“You hired some random homeless turd?” he asked, his dumb smile back on his lips. “Kara, if you needed help, you should have just told me. For sure my father would have sent someone, we have a lot of good workers to spare. Not someone like-” he dismissively waved his hand at Gand, who was not looking too impressive in his worn out outfit, boots drowned in horse shit, messy hair and dirty forehead.

Kara was not sure what was pissing her off more. 

The fact that he once again thought he had the right to stick his nose into her life. The fact he was using his daddy to make himself look better, like always. The fact he was treating someone he'd just met like crap, ready to fight, because his opponent looked weaker than him. Or the very sad fact that once upon a time, in high school, she thought they made an amazing couple. 

Kara took a deep breath and told herself that no, kicking Adam Grant’s ass was not going to solve anything. Screaming her lungs out was not helpful too. 

Yep…

“For God’s sake, I can take care of myself!”

Maybe screaming was not going to help, but it could at least improve her mood, for sure.

Too bad her ex entirely ignored her outburst, focusing his cow’s eyes on Gand.

“Not going to say a word?” Adam asked, with a mocking voice.

Gand just kept staring at him silently, in his typical unnerving manner, and, for the first time, Kara could appreciate it, because for once it was not aimed at her.

Michael didn’t say a word for a long moment.

“No,” he said at last, and Kara just had to chuckle, because her ex’s dumb and disoriented expression was priceless. 

It was a mistake, because in first place on the long, long list of things that made him angry, was people laughing at him. The fact that it hadn't changed since kindergarten, if Kara remembered correctly, was highly upsetting.

He clenched his fists, furrowed his brows and set his jaw, looking like a Neanderthal ready to fight.

Baree slowly stood up, a low, quiet growl building in his chest. 

_Shit_! Kara bent over and hugged his tensed neck. 

“Adam-” she started, trying to calm the man down. Didn’t he notice that a giant, pissed off dog was about to bite his head off?

But of course Grant’s brain was bathing in cortisol already, and there was no way to stop him from making a bloody mistake.

“Listen you-!” 

Thankfully for him, Alura Danvers had been watching the whole exchange for some time from the house, and decided to intervene.

She opened the door with a loud bang and made everyone jump and look in her direction. 

Alura stepped outside looking like a model, in her expensive as hell Dior dress, perfect makeup, hair and super high heels on her feet. 

“Adam, sweetheart, it’s so nice to see you,” she said with a smile, her voice smooth, sweet and threatening at the same time - Alura Danvers was the most famous counsellor in the area for a good reason.

Grant gulped, the cortisol in his brain rapidly making space for adrenaline, commonly known as the hormone of fear. 

Gand blinked. Baree whined. Kara rolled her eyes.

“How’s your mother? Haven’t heard from her since her last charming article for CatCo magazine,” Alura smiled wider, because Cat Grant’s divorcing Adam’s father, emigrating to National City, building one of the most powerful media companies in the world and trashing her ex-husband and excuse of a son, as she liked to call him during interviews, was the favorite source of gossip in Midvale.

Grant made a face. Gand blinked again. Baree snuggled to Kara’s embrace, while she rolled her eyes harder.

“Too bad you are leaving already, I would love to sit with you and talk about your new job,” she continued, mercilessly.

Grant’s new job was being a useless manager in one of his father’s firms. 

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Please, send regards to your father,” Alura said, sweetly, and looked at him expectantly.

“But-”

“Like, now.”

Something in her voice made the hair on the back of Mon-El’s neck rise, and he couldn’t blame Grant for simply turning on his heel and entering his car. 

Still, Miss Danvers’ ex partner managed to throw him an angry stare, while maneuvering the car.

 _It seemed as though he had somehow made himself a new friend,_ he thought, sarcastically, while watching Grant’s car leaving the property. 

Then he almost yelped, because Alura appeared in front of him out of nowhere. Wasn’t she standing on the porch like five seconds ago?, proving his theory that all Danvers females moved like ninjas.

“Michael, it’s so good to finally meet you,” she smiled at him, this time genuinely sweetly.

For some reason he felt like every hair in his beard was being painstakingly examined by the lady in front of him. 

Suddenly, he registered that he didn’t look or smell that good. 

“I’m Alura Danvers, Kara’s mom,” she offered her hand, her grip was firm. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, but I hope we can catch up at dinner this Sunday,” her smile was bright as sun and absolutely terrifying.

“Uhm- '' he glimpsed over Alura’s shoulder at Miss Danvers who was still hugging Baree and staring at him through squeezed eyes. 

And throwing daggers at him.

“Uhm-”

Miss Danvers let go of Baree, stood up and opened her mouth to protest.

“Kara has absolutely nothing against it and I’m not sure why she hasn’t invited you already,” Alura said, without even looking at her daughter.

Miss Danvers threw her hands in the air with an angry huff.

“I don’t think that-”

Alura didn’t let him finish. She grabbed his forearms and squeezed them.

He looked at her red, manicured nails digging holes in his flesh.

“It will be my pleasure, ma’am,” he blurted out.

“Great!” she smiled even brighter and dusted something from his shoulder. “Your adorable pup is invited too, of course. Three pm,” she turned on her heel and patted Baree’s head, as she passed him and Kara.

Watching her retreat - she was walking gracefully on the gravel path in her heels like it was the easiest thing in the universe - he got a nasty feeling that he walked into yet another trap. One more, on the same day. How the hell did it happen? He was losing his touch and-

“Are you gaping at my mother’s ass?” Miss Danvers asked, once Alura had disappeared inside the house.

He blinked and looked at her. 

She was glaring at him with her hands on her hips, something dangerous was dancing in her eyes.

Was he staring at Mrs. Danvers ass?

“I don’t know,” he answered, honestly, for he had no idea. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t control his eyes. So, maybe? 

On the other hand, Alura Danvers was indeed a babe. He surely as hell was not going to tell her daughter that.

He prefered his balls to stay intact. 

“I’m just going to fix the fence,” he muttered awkwardly and turned to leave.

“I didn’t need help, you know. I can take care of myself,” he heard her calling after a few steps.

He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder.

“I know,” he shrugged. “But I wasn't sure if my dog was aware of that,” Mon-El said, simply, and started walking again.

Miss Kara Danvers was capable of dealing with assholes, he could tell. But it didn’t change the fact he was very glad he sent Baree after her.

When he saw Adam Grant near her, all the alarms in his head went off. He was not that good at reading people’s auras like when he was a kid, but... this guy screamed something nasty.

*

“What a weirdo,” Kara shook her head, watching Gand gathering the tools from the barn.

He didn’t know if he was looking at her mother’s ass? Was it even possible?

But the weirdest thing was... she believed him. One look at his confused face and she knew he was being honest.

Baree poked at her hand with his wet nose.

“And you’re no better,” she playfully tugged his ears with a smile. “I didn’t need help but it was good to have you with me,” she whispered quietly. “Don’t tell that to anyone.”

He licked her hand with his ears plastered to his head, looking like, quoting her mother, an adorable pup, instead of a murderous beast ready to tear her ex’s throat to shreds.

Yes, she could handle Adam Grant, she had been doing it for some time now. 

He was a typical wealthy alpha male who had never really grown up, and thought he could get anything, because of his position. Unfortunately for her, after his graduation from National City University and failed attempts to get a job, he came back to Midvale and, all of the sudden, after years of ignoring her and the kids, he decided that becoming a father was his golden ticket to boosting his bruised alpha male ego.

Good joke, Kara thought, absentmindedly scratching Baree behind his ears.

Adding Adam’s ambiguous behavior to the mix, like he wanted to ugh, court her again, was a recipe for disaster and major pain in her ass. 

Thank God Gand was looking like a homeless loser, not a potential rival, or Adam would have absolutely lost his shit.

Kara groaned and patted Baree’s head for the last time.

And yeah, thank God that Michael Gand was absolutely not her type either, because she didn’t need more troubles with her jealous ex. And she sure as hell didn’t want a man.

She was perfectly fine alone.

Her phone suddenly vibrated in a pocket.

“Please tell me we are getting drunk tonight,” Kara goraned tiredly when she picked it up.

Her best friend laughed in response.

*

Sheriff John Jones took a sip of his horrible coffee, aimlessly shuffling the pictures of dead cattle on his desk. 

They were just dead cows, killed by a cougar or a wolf pack, nothing surprising or new in their area. Things like that were happening every year, more frequently after Grant managed to buy the grounds that belonged to an old nature reserve and started to pasture his herds there, invading big predators territories. It didn’t help that L-Corp started railing the grounds around their facilities on the west, forcing cougars, grizzlies and wolves to migrate to the valleys inhabited by farmers and their herds. Attacking cattle was the easiest way to feed.

Nothing out of normal.

However, if that was the case, why did he feel uneasy while staring at the images?

“Knock, knock, knock! Brand new Midvale County medical examiner reports, she is ready for duty and action!” 

Sheriff Jones didn’t even raise his head to look at the new arrival.

“Samantha Arias,” he said tiredly. “Remind me, why didn't I spank you more often when you were a kid and I constantly caught you doing pranks? Maybe you would have become a responsible adult if I had.”

“Because you liked me, and the one time you spanked me, you were so ashamed that you avoided me, an eight year old, for a month,” Sam said happily and sat on his desk. “What had I done? Had I put bananas into police cars’ tailpipes?” She stole a donut from a box on his desk and took a bite.

John sighed tiredly.

“You jumped to the river from the freaking bridge.”

“Oh! That one, right. It was a hot day, you know. Anyways, you caught me right after I came out from the water. Damn, I have never seen you so pissed off,” she shrugged and took another bite, smearing icing sugar on her cheek.

“Well, the vision of two idiots playing kamikaze, holding hands and searching death might have made me a little mad.”

Sam raised a brow. “A little? You were screaming so loud, I was afraid your lungs were going to explode. You scared me so much I stopped doing pranks-”

John just threw her his mastered _give me a break, citizen_ look.

“-for at least a month.”

“Too bad I didn’t catch Alex as well,” he said, but immediately regretted his words, when a shadow crossed her face, but she brushed it away quickly.

“Yeah, well, she was devastated too. Nothing better than good deputy Jones screaming at your face,” Sam focused her eyes on the photographs on his desk. “So, when can I start?”

Sheriff sighed again, almost regretting that old Mxy finally retired and moved to the Bahamas, leaving a vacancy for the one and only Samantha Arias, who was a royal pain in his ass.

The fact that she was his primary care physician sometimes made the pain literal. 

“When we find a dead body, so hopefully not soon.”

Statistically speaking, Midvale was one of the safest towns in the area, and he really didn’t want it to change.

“Sam, why did you apply for this job? It’s the most boring occupation in the town, you’re going to get called maybe once a year.”

“What can I say,” she muttered absently, going through the pictures. “Dead bodies are my hobby.”

“I can see that,” John said sarcastically, watching her examine.

“Hmm,” she suddenly purred.

He really didn’t like how she sounded and for sure he was going to regret it, but he had to ask.

“What?”

“Could be nothing… did a veterinarian examine the bodies?”

“Yes, Dick said they were either killed by a grizzly or a cougar, but it’s hard to tell, because the bodies were too decomposed and scavengers contributed. And-”

“Hmm.”

John took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?”

“Not that I have reasons to doubt Dr. I Can’t Tell A Difference Between A Hamster And A Guinea Pig-”

Sheriff rolled his eyes, but she had a point about their local veterinarian.

“-but it looks like they were all killed by the same animal. Also...” she grabbed two pictures and looked at them closely. “It’s weird. A lot of meat was left behind, not consumed… There are no marks that suggest scavengers were eating the carrions as well.”

John stared at her hard.

“What about the body fragments that are spread all over the place? Dick said scavengers scattered them.”

“Well… The pieces were big. Foxes and coyotes wouldn't have wasted them or scattered them like that, but simply eaten them or taken away. It looks more like...” she shrugged helplessly and put the images down. “Like the killer tore the bodies in rage and scattered the pieces all over the place.”

She jumped from the desk. “But I’m not an expert, just a local doctor slash the new medical examiner. Maybe it’s a prank? Anyway, I have to pick Ruby up from school, see ya later boss,” she blew him a kiss and left his office.

He watched as she slapped deputy Schott’s shoulder, making him drop up his phone, and happily left the station.

Then he looked at the pictures spread on his desk.

Prank, huh? A goddamned good one. And very fucked up. A little too much for Midvale standards. So maybe a predator affected by rabies. That was more plausible. 

But that would mean a feral big predator was running around his county.

He could ignore it. After all, Sam was not an expert. 

But she was an intelligent and capable doctor and, as she said, dead bodies were her hobby. 

For sure he needed to do something. Especially, because the unpleasant feeling that something was going to happen and he was missing an important point were not leaving him.

“Deputy Schott!” he yelled, causing the guy to drop his phone again. “Call the others, meeting at five!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I started playing with this story in my head about 2 years ago. And since the ery begining I imagined Adam as Kara's ex and he simply fit to it. I know what his fucking actor has done and I just want to say real life didn't inspire his character arc in this story. I just could not shift form him to any other character from the show or OC. But well... what can I say... maybe justice and karma will do what is needed at least in the fiction...  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, because writing it was a freaking nightmare. Few things were hinted, some new characters appeared, Baree was a VIP, karamel interacted and Kara decided to change the tactic. Now it's Mon-El's turn to open up a little, huh? Be patient, few possibilities incoming!  
> Btw, who noticed all the horses are called after alcoholic bevarages? There is a reason for that! xD  
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, things happen. Some unexpected, some planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe I managed to update it so early.  
> Big thanks for my amazing beta reader karxmels <3  
> Lyrics used in the chap: Nightfall by Xandria  
> Enjoy!  
> ...  
> PS... This chap took some unexpected, even for me, directions, and I'm not sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_Here it comes, the story of mankind's final glory_

_Into the nightfall_

_The showdown now has come, this will be the last curtain_

_Before the night falls_

**_*_ **

**_Breaking news! The L-Corp health facility was reopened today. It was shut down in August 2019, after an explosion caused by a leak of black kryptonite that destroyed a major part of the building. In our exclusive interview, Lena Luthor revealed the details of the recently closed investigation about the horrible event in which 23 people have died-_ **

_*_

Ben Lockwood put an empty glass on the bar, causing a loud slam that almost broke it.

“Give me another,” he snapped to Megan, his angry eyes glued to the tv screen where Lena Luthor appeared.

“I think you've had enough, Ben.” Megan sighed while filling a jar with beer for another customer. “It’s your six-”

“Just pour it.” He shot her a glare.

“Hey, you don’t have to be so rude,” a man who was waiting for his drink, said.

Lockwood redirected his angry stare to the newcomer.

“Fuck off,” he said, and tightened his grip on the glass he was holding even more, so strongly that Megan feared it was about to crash — it would not be the first time.

“Ok, ok,” the man mumbled nervously, grabbed his jar and walked away quickly.

“Here’s your whiskey,” Megan filled his glass, trying to shift his focus from the retreating man, because Benjamin Lockwood was in a mood for a fight. “Just don’t throw it at the tv,” she sighed — that would not be the first time either.

Lockwood didn’t answer. He gulped his drink, glaring again at the tv, where Lena Luthor, in all smiles, was describing how happy she was that the facility was open for soldier veterans again.

She was going to pay. She and her whole family, coworkers and friends. For all that bitch had done to him and his loved ones. 

Even if it would be the last thing he was going to do in his life.

*

“He’s not in the cheeriest of moods, huh?” the man with a beer smiled faintly, gesturing at Lockwood with his chin.

“No, not for the past year,” Megan said, while wiping his table. “Since his father died in that explosion,” she sighed and looked around the bar with furrowed brows.

“Something's wrong?”

“Have you seen Kit around? It’s the second baseball night he’s going to miss.”

“No. But for sure he’s ok. Probably just sleeping his session off, like usual,” the man shrugged and patted her hand.

“Yeah, probably,” she answered, unconvinced, and moved to the table occupied by her three favorite customers.

“Second round, girls?” she asked, while waving at Eve who had just entered the bar. 

“Yes, please! Make it double, we are here to get wasted to celebrate my promotion!” Sam made a little dance.

“Nia too?” Megan asked with a raised brow, pointing at the dark haired girl, who was half-sitting with her head lying on the table.

“Yep, she just needs a moment to come back to life after playing _Survivors of Krypton_ online for the whole night with her new hot friend,” Kara poked Nia’s side.

“First of all, it was not _Survivors of Krypton_ , but _Justice League_ ,” Nia said faintly without raising her head and Kara rolled her eyes. “Secondly, I don’t know if he’s hot or not. Maybe he looks like Modok,” she mumbled and fell asleep.

This time all the other ladies rolled their eyes.

“Lena couldn’t come?” Megan asked.

“No, she had some meetings.” Sam shrugged dismissively. “Anyway, join us when you find a few free minutes, I need to know what the best sheriff in the country said about his new, amazing medical examiner.” She smiled, but Megan didn’t take the bait.

“I don’t know what you talk about,” she deadpanned and left them to take Eve’s order.

“Do you think that-” Sam hummed, watching her retreating back.

One look at her smiley face and Kara killed the urge to groan.

“Please, don’t say that.”

“-they are going to bang soon?”

“God,” Kara groaned anyway and tried to remove the image of a dude she treated like a second father performing some sexual activities from her very imaginative brain.

“Come on, they’ve been dancing around each other for years and I don’t think they crossed the _staring at each other suggestively_ phase, yet.”

“By suggestively, you mean glaring, right?” Kara sighed trying to lick the last drops of the beer from her glass.

“What happened to your hopeless inner romantic?” Sam puffed out her cheeks.

“Died right after I got impregnated by an asshole,” Kara said flatly. 

“Speak of the devil.” Sam casually pointed at Adam Grant who just came into the bar.

“For fucks’s sake,” Kara growled, when he spotted them and with his usual smile and made a move like he wanted to join them.

“Wake up, Dreamy,” Sam poked Nia. “It’s time to glare at the sperm donor.”

Adam stopped dead in his tracks, when Sam and Kara threw him two, super deadly, _mastered for years_ glares, while Nia just raised her hands and showed him two middle fingers, without lifting her head.

“I kind of miss trashing his ass.” Sam sighed, disappointed, when he turned on his heel and headed to the bar. “He hasn't talked to me since I commented on the size of his penis, on his physical examination some years ago.”

“Thank God, because I've had enough of him for today,” Kara growled into her beer.

“Wait, for today?” Sam blinked. 

Kara sighed and described the events of the day. Nia raised her head, put her chin on her palm and listened carefully.

“And then he just walked away, to fix the fence and- Why are you staring at me like that...” she asked her two friends who were watching her with enigmatic expressions on their faces for the past few minutes. 

“Nothing at all, you just didn’t mention you have a new employee,” Sam tried to act neutral.

“Yeah, like I didn’t mention any of the past losers.”

“But you love to gloat about how fast they resign, thanks to you.”

“This weirdo is problematic...”

“Hmm,” Sam narrowed her eyes.

Nia decided to have a slightly different approach.

“Is he hot?” she asked bluntly.

Kara, who had just taken a sip, spat the beer out, threw her head back and laughed so loudly, that all the people near their table looked at her weirdly.

“Yeah, very, if you’re into cavemen.” She chuckled. “The guy hasn’t heard about scissors or razor. It’s horrible. He can almost tie his hair in a ponytail and braid his beard.”

“He has a nice body, though,” Sam said, and watched with satisfaction how Kara choked on the beer this time.

“Excuse me?” the blonde managed to rasp the words out. “You don’t even know what he looks like!”

“Oh, I do. I ogled him through the window when he helped Harry get in after she came for a prescription. And believe me, I know what I’m talking about, I’m a physician.”

Kara blinked. “Harry visited you? Why? Is it her hip condition worsening again?”

“That's classified information.” Sam raised her hands. “And no way in hell I’m going to discuss her medical condition with you. No, thank you, I like staying alive.” The very thought about what would have happened if Harry had known she had talked to Kara about the old lady’s hip made Sam sweat with fear.

“But-” Kara protested but there were more important things to discuss, at least in Nia’s opinion.

“So, he _is_ hot?”

Kara growled and threw her hands in the air.

“No, he’s not! And it’s not important! Because he’s annoying, weird and I have enough of his behavior, so I’m going to do everything tomorrow to make him leave! Jesus, I have never met an equally frustrating man. It’s like he exists only to annoy me and he doesn’t even talk that much. Hell, he just keeps staring at me, with those big, grey eyes, and acts like he can read my mind and ugh, sometimes I think he can. It’s impossible to frustrate him and it feels like a challenge, you know? Also, how dare he? He didn’t-”

Kara kept blabbing how annoying Michael Gand was for another few minutes, while Sam and Nia listened to her very carefully and watched her like hungry hawks.

“And he-” Kara stopped and blinked when she caught her two friends exchanging a look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam answered innocently. “You mentioned something about tomorrow?”

“Oh, the passage in the gorge is blocked by mud and stones again, so I’m taking him with me to clear it up,” Kara smiled like cheshire cat. “And I have some plans prepared for him.”

Nia and Sam exchanged another look.

“You are going to throw yourself at him?” Nia asked.

“What?!”

“Flash him your breasts?”

“SAM!”

“Ride in front of him and expose your amazing ass?”

“NO!”

“Take condoms with you.”

“And a bottle of wine.”

“And the pink fluffy cuffs I bought you years ago and you didn’t use so far.”

“Oh, great idea! You can tie him to a tree and-”

“Take his clothes off and-”

“Leave him there to die,” Kara said coldly.

Unfortunately for her, she said it quite loudly at the silent moment between the songs that were played in the bar, and she was heard by most people around them. 

Sam and Nia burst out laughing at her absolutely red face, as dozens of customers looked at her weirdly, some even moving their chairs away a little.

Embarrassed, she took a sip, and noticed that Benjamin Lockwood was staring at her from the bar.

A cold shiver ran down her spine when she looked into his dark, angry stare. 

However, she raised her glass in greeting.

He stared at her for a few heart beats and, without acknowledgment, he turned his eyes away.

She gritted her teeth. She was not sure she should have been upset, pissed off or sorry for him. 

“But seriously, Kara, when was the last time when you got laid?” Sam’s a little too cheerful voice brought her back from the dark, past thoughts to the harsh reality, where her two best pals — why was she even friends with them in the first place? —, decided to make her life a living nightmare.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she said, irritated.

“Was it that… Wilhelm dude?” Nia scratched her chin.

“William,” Kara snapped.

“Oh, that cute and boring one, but with a sweet smile.” Sam nodded her head, knowingly. “That hookup happened a year ago.”

“There was that one night stand with Scott that ended with broken toes and it happened long time ago,” Nia clicked her tongue. “And you still didn’t tell us how you broke 'em.”

Kara groaned and banged her head against the table. “Can we stop talking about my sex life?”

Nia and Sam, once again, exchanged a knowing look.

“Ok, no problem,” Nia said.

Kara raised her head. “Really?” the doubt in her voice was clearly heard.

“Yup.”

“Of course, no talking about the lack of dicks in your life.”

“Our lips are sealed.”

“100%”

“We just wish you a nice trip tomorrow.”

“And nice weather.”

“Sunny, perfect for a horseback trip.”

“Preferably hot.”

“Don’t you dare...”

“Perfect for working without a shirt.”

“God!”

“If he has greek god's body, take some pics.”

“No!”

“Don’t be a scrooge, share some goodies with your besties.”

“And take condoms with you.”

“And us.”

“We’ll take the pictures.”

Kara groaned and banged her head against the table again.

And again.

*

He watched her from afar. 

Noticing how her golden hair shimmered under the light of the bar’s lamps. How her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. How she tilted her head to the side, exposing her white, smooth neck.

He heard her brilliant laugh, echoing in the room, like a beacon, calling him. Intimidating. 

_Trash whore._

He took a sip of his drink, running his fingers around the glass, fantasizing about circling his fingers around her neck. Closing them. Squeezing the life out of her. 

Was she going to scream? Beg for forgiveness? Try to bargain with her sweet, sweet lies, even if there was no mercy for filthy little bitches like her?

He was going to find out.

 _Soon_.

*

“I don’t need a man,” Kara said slowly, with her chin resting heavily on her fifth bottle of beer.

“I know,” Sam said with a peanut on the tip of her nose, trying to balance it. “Same.”

“You have a vibrator.” Kara yawned.

“You have one too,” Nia mumbled, lying on the seat with her head on Kara’s lap.

“I broke it some time ago.” The blonde sighed sadly.

“You’ve finally worn out poor old Trembly?”

“Sam.” Kara closed her eyes. “Do you seriously have to give names to everything, my vibrators included?”

Sam nodded and caught the falling peanut with her tongue. “Of course, because that’s my-”

“Hobby,” Nia finished and both women high fived each other. 

Kara rolled her eyes, regretting her poor best friend choices.

“But seriously, Supergirl, the fact you don’t need a guy, doesn’t mean you don’t want one,” Sam pointed out.

“I don’t want one either,” Kara snapped.

Sam and Nia groaned.

“Geez, Kara, it's not like you can’t bang a guy, without a big declaration of love, commitment and plans for making a family. It’s the twenty-first century, you know.” Sam rolled her eyes. “And one night stands exist for a reason.”

“And the reason is dealing with sexual frustration, ouch-” Nia whimpered when Kara tugged her hair a little.

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” she said darkly. “What?! I’m not!” she said when Sam threw her a not amused glance.

The dark haired physician looked at the place between Kara’s brows, where the infamous crinkle was trying to appear, as though it was not sure if the owner of the body was lying or oblivious.

“And look who's talking.” Kara squeezed her eyes angrily, she had seriously had enough of them making fun of the lack of action in her life. “When was the last time you got some action? Eight months ago?”

Sam took a slow sip of her beer.

“Right before Alex left or maybe much earlier?” Kara snapped, but when Nia tensed on her lap, she came back to her senses and realized what she had just said.

“Sam, I’m-”

“No,” the physician said calmly. “I deserved that, I should not have talked like that to you.” She put the empty bottle on the table and stared at it.

Nia opened her eyes and sat up.

“Exactly 252 days.” Sam shrugged after a few moments. “Do you have any...” she looked at Kara hopefully.

“No, nothing. Eliza calls mom from time to time, but not Alex,” Kara said quietly.

Sam blinked and stared at the bottle again. 

“She sends some messages to Ruby.” She sighed finally, chasing the drops of water on the bottle with her fingers. “But I don’t want to ask Ruby about them and well, it seems Alex doesn’t want to talk to me, so...” She shrugged again, and wiped something from her eye.

Nia and Kara exchanged a look and put their hands on hers in unison.

 _It was her fault, damn._ Kara bit her lip. She needed to fix that.

“But seriously, he’s not my type.” She sighed theatrically. “Hairy like a caveman, next time I see him, he is going to have braids in his beard and a nest on the top of his head. Sense of fashion? Homeless yuppie. As talkative and energetic as Scotch. Hobbies? Staring lifelessly at the wall and blinking. Also, sorry to inform you, but I think I’m not his type either,” she finished sadly.

“Oh? And what is his type exactly?” Nia asked. “Beautiful narcoleptics, maybe?”

“I’m afraid you are much too young for his taste, Dreamy,” Kara said, deadly serious. “I think he cherishes older, experienced small town’s counsellors.”

“You mean?” Sam raised her brows.

“Yup, he was totally ogling my mom’s ass.”

Nia and Sam looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Kara sighed relieved.

“I mean, you can’t blame him.” Sam wiped some tears from the corners of her eyes, but this time they were happy tears. “Your mom is out of everyone’s league, a total hottie.”

“Most of the guys in this town are probably having wet dreams about her.”

“Eww! Gross! What the hell, Nia! I didn’t want to know that!”

Kara made a face, but then laughed along with her friends.

She squeezed Sam’s hand a little tighter.

They were going to be ok. 

For sure.

*

The guy who was not Kara’s type opened the hood of Harry’s car, and cursed loudly.

It was a fucking nightmare.

Wires were tangled, pipes and cylinders rusty. It appeared as though they could fall apart after one single touch. Some things were fixed… with a Scotch tape. Did that hole in the pipe get clogged with a pen? Speaking of holes, he saw some in the auto body… Was that grass growing in the corner? Seriously? Dead lives, hundreds of insect bodies were spread all over the engine and other parts. And, holy crap, he just noticed a mouse nest made of shreds of rugs and other shit.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep, calming breath.

It seemed that offering Harry to check her car was not the brightest of his ideas.

Mon-El sighed and started cleaning the mess. Baree, who was lying with his head on his foot, waved his tail every time Mon-El sighed loudly.

He had been working for some time, when he heard the boy coming.

“Hey, Mr Gand! What are you doing?” TJ bounced to his side, patted Baree’s head and laughed when the dog licked his hand. “Ouch,” he said when he finally looked at the mess under the hood.

“Yeah, well.” Mon-El sighed and wiped his dirty hands on his pants. “Where’s your sister?” he asked, looking around, afraid of getting a heart attack if the small ninja appeared suddenly out of nowhere.

TJ tilted his head at the side, like he was listening to something.

“In the chicken house, hiding from granny Alura because she doesn’t want to wash her head, she will come shortly and-” the boy blinked suddenly, and looked at Mon-El a little panicked. “I mean… it’s not like she told me right now, I, uhmmmm, know it’s her favorite place to hide and- and I told her where I was going so it’s no weird or anything yeah,” he said in his typical way of shooting words like rifle.

Mon-El blinked and turned to the car again. “Want to help me?” he asked the boy, as if he didn’t notice anything weird.

Together they worked side by side, TJ standing on a box and describing his whole day, with details, and Mon-El listening carefully, getting better at following the boy's speaking manner, throwing some _mhms_ and _uhms_ here and there. 

“-and then granny kicked us out because she needed to clean the floors and is that a baseball ball?” TJ asked, sticking his small hand between the pipes and the engine and taking an old, dirty ball out.

“How did it get here?” the boy asked, while turning the ball in his hands.

When Baree noticed it, he stood up and started wagging his tail like crazy.

“If you want, you could practice some throws with him,” Mon-El said, not wanting to think about how the goddamned ball got stuck there. He just hoped it had not been clogging a hole or something like that, because sweet Jesus...

“I’m getting better at it,” the boy said, proudly, then bit the insides of his cheeks and looked at Mon-El, shyly.

“Do you think you uhm- or we could practice one day together? I know I suck at it, but I thought-” he shrugged helplessly, for once using pauses, and Mon-El realized how important it was for the little boy.

Even if he didn't have any idea why.

“Sure, but maybe practice with Baree first or he’s going to throw a tantrum.”

TJ's smile was even wider when he hopped off the box and headed to the exit.

“Go with him,” Mon-El said to the dog, who obeyed without a second of hesitation.

Turning again to the car, Mon-El sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

He was getting attached. And it was not a good thing. Every time he got too comfortable with people around him-

Mon-El sighed again, grabbing the freaking mouse’s nest with a dead, dry rodent in it and throwing it away. 

He could finally start repairing the car, hoping it didn't crumble into dust under his touch.

He loved fixing things. Cars, radios, mechanical toys, fences, leaking taps... any broken things that could have been repaired with his hands. Ever since his childhood, being able to focus on the task and not think about anything else, had given him comfort. When he repaired something, he entered his own world, and nothing could shake him there. All he needed to do was switch something in his brain. 

Probably that was the reason why he was so good at setting and defusing bombs. He could work like a -

_What are you, dude? A fucking terminator? In which factory they’ve made you, because I need answers. Just please, don’t say it was L-Corp or I will have to throw you out of the window._

Mon-El closed his eyes, trying to drive the memory of Garth’s laugh away. 

So yeah, fixing things was easy and comforting. _Too bad fixing humans’ brains was not that simple,_ he thought, while tearing the tape off the fuel filter. 

Some screws were rusty and loose there and he needed a...

A monkey wrench was put on the engine.

Mon-El turned his head a little and looked at JJ who, like always, had appeared out of nowhere, and was now standing by his side, watching what he was doing with furrowed brows. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

She shot him a quick glance from under the golden bangs covering her face, and nodded lightly.

And just liked that he started working again. She climbed the box, grabbed the edge of the car, and silently watched what he was doing.

At some point, as if it were the most natural thing to do, he started explaining what he was doing, how the car parts were called and what they were responsible for. 

JJ listened to his words, sometimes nodding her head, always pointing out the correct parts when he asked her.

He handed her the wrench and when she was about to tighten the bolt-

The universe closed around them.

Her eyes widened like saucers, and she dropped the wrench, yet Mon-El didn’t hear the sound when it hit the concrete floor.

He held his breath while watching her in slow motion as she shut her eyes closed, and put her hands on her ears.

A piercing shriek exploded in his brain, but he was sure he was not hearing it with his ears.

It was followed by a wave of a feeling, like he walked into a humid, warm room filled with an invisible substance that stuck to his body like a second skin, covering him from head to toes with something gross and slimy that made him want to vomit.

JJ opened her mouth like she was screaming in pain, but he heard no sound.

It woke him up from his stance.

He acted instinctively, like many other times on the battlefield.

Mon-El kneeled down and hugged the trembling, tensed girl to his chest, closing her in a protective embrace. 

The shriek died abruptly and the universe started to move again. 

Mon-El took a shaky breath and leaned away from the girl.

She was clinging to his t-shirt with her eyes still shut tightly, holding the material on his chest so strongly her knuckles turned white. 

“Hey,” he said softly and put his hands on hers, squeezing them gently. “It’s over.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him through unshed tears, shaking her head.

Somehow, he knew what she meant. 

Something had happened. Or was about to.

Just like that night, not long before.

“JJ!” The boy stormed into the garage, but stopped at the view.

“She’s ok,” Mon-El said calmly, squeezing her hands for the last time before letting them go. “But she had an… episode,” he used the term his parents used to describe this kind of thing that had happened to him, long time ago, in his different life.

TJ ran to his sister and hugged her tightly, Baree danced around them anxiously.

She threw Mon-El a look over her brother’s shoulder. Her blue eyes were full of what he felt.

 _Fear_.

*

He entered his empty dark house and, without turning the light on, went straight to the basement.

The room he walked into was small and empty. The only thing there was a lamp standing in the middle, throwing light on a wall, where pictures of people and places, newspapers articles and scraps of paper full of handwritten notes were hanging. 

He approached the wall and stared at a picture of a woman in the middle. He traced the contour of her face.

His final prize.

He smiled coldly and scratched the surface, leaving marks on her face.

 _Soon_.

*

“Do you remember anything?”

They were still in the garage, the kids standing and Mon-El crouching in front of them. 

JJ shook her head.

“She usually doesn’t,” TJ said, unsurely. 

Talking about things that were happening to his sister outside their family was unusual, and he still didn’t feel it was right.

But JJ ensured they could trust this man.

“Sometimes, after things happen for real, she remembers or dreams about things but can’t make sense of them. It’s like looking at a shattered picture or a jigsaw that's not solved.”

Mon-El nodded. It sounded horribly familiar to his story when he was a kid. 

But he'd had a guide. Someone who had helped him get through it and taken control. 

It seemed as though JJ had no one like that.

“Can you help her?” the boy blurted out, bringing him back to reality. “It’s getting worse and-” he bit his lip.

Mon-El opened his mouth, wanting to say that no, he could not help her or anyone else. He was just a guy who had no idea what he was doing with his life anymore, and for sure he could not take a responsibility like this. Besides, he was going to leave in the spring anyway. Not looking back, leaving everything behind like he always did.

Nevertheless, he closed his mouth without a sound. 

Because TJ was looking at him with intense pleading in his eyes. 

Because JJ was not looking at him at all, but staring at her hands that were nervously tugging at the sleeves of her shirt.

He felt their fear. He could almost see it, a dark cloud circling around them, suffocating.

When he thought about it that night, he didn’t know why exactly he did it. He was going to understand it weeks later, during the worst, most horrible moment of his life.

But not this night.

Once again, without thinking, acting instinctively, he took off his dog tags and put it around JJ’s neck.

Two little pieces of steel. 

Two names. 

One belonged to him.

“It’ll keep you safe,” he whispered and, weirdly, he believed it. 

JJ grabbed them, and closed them in her hand.

They felt warm, and, somehow, she believed they were going to keep her safe too.

“Kids! Supper is ready!” they heard Alura’s voice.

“Don’t make your granny wait for you.” Mon-El stood up, shaking the dust of his pants off. 

JJ stared at him for a moment, and then hid the dog tags under her shirt. She nodded her head in a silent thank you, and walked away, followed by Baree, who decided to walk them home.

Mon-El looked at TJ, who was standing still, watching his sister go with an expression the older man could easily read.

“TJ,” he called him and waited for the boy to look at him. “You’re doing a great job protecting her.”

The boy’s lip trembled a little.

“I don’t think- I don’t think it’s enough.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t do anything while she-”

Mon-El put hand on his head and ruffled his hair gently.

“Knowing that someone is always there for you when you need it is enough,” he said, and smiled a little.

Hesitantly, the boy smiled back.

*

Later, when he entered the toolhouse that stood at the back of his cabin and looked for something he had seen there before, he didn’t know what to think.

He didn’t want it, he didn’t expect it, he didn’t need it, but he had gotten attached.

And every cell in his body screamed to run away.

Especially, because he still had a bad taste in his mouth that had appeared during JJ’s episode. It tasted like iron and burnt rubber. For sure it didn’t foreshadow anything good.

“Am I doing the right thing, Garth?” he asked silently, searching through the long wooden sticks that were stored up in the corner.

He grabbed one, checked the length, thickness and strength.

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” he said, and swung the stick. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it.”

He didn’t notice he was smiling widely.

The stick was made of hard beech wood. All he needed to do was a little craving to shape it into a bokken.

“Well, Kai, my old friend, it’s time to finally wake up.”

*

_We are rising higher, closer to the fire_

_Let the final dance begin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadah!  
> Hope you liked it. Criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Signs of love too ;)  
> Thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Sheriff Jones along with Winn and some bear are not having the best of the days and some other people enjoy physical activities in the bosom of nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always biggest kudos for my amazing beta reader, karxmels (who is also a karamel writer and recently post a story, so go and check it!)
> 
> Btw, "bokken" is a Japanese wooden sword used for training in kenjutsu. In Japan it's called bokutō, bokken is a name used on West.  
> Anyway, sorry for a long absence, hope you are going to enjoy this chap.

Leaning on the fence, Mon-El yawned. 

Whittling his bokken took him longer than he expected, and he hadn’t slept much during the night.

Which hadn't been a good move when he thought about what Miss Danvers probably prepared today for him.

He massaged his aching nape, lazily watching the fleeting, misty fog that escaped his mouth. 

It was a chilly morning, and Mon-El was jealous of Baree, who had spent the whole night wandering outside. The dog came back right after his master got up, lying on the floor and refusing to leave the warm house. The dog just bid him goodbye by hitting the floor with his tail twice. And then probably fell asleep right away. 

Lucky bastard. 

Mon-El truly hoped that Baree didn’t visit any chicken houses that night to stop for a late supper. And if he did, that he was not noticed by anyone...

Mon-El straightened himself when Miss Danvers came out from the corner of the stable and opened his mouth to greet her.

But immediately shut it back, soundlessly, when she shot him a very meaningful stare. He could not read people’s minds, but her thoughts were easy to figure out.

 _One sound and I’m going to rip your spine out_.

Or something along those lines.

Her face was white, with dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. When she passed him, he sniffed the air (a little too loudly, because she shot him another murderous glare) and was met with a not so faint alcohol smell.

Mon-El wanted to smirk, but didn’t - he was sure she would murder him if she saw it.

Hence, he simply followed her to the stables and started to feed the horses, trying to stay as far as he could from her, throughout the entire morning.

*

Sheriff Jones deeply inhaled the fresh mountain air, and grunted contently. He was away from his office, telephones, butthurt civilians, annoying barkeeps, and modern civilization problems. 

It was only him, his horse, some mosquitoes and a party of moaning, grumpy deputies and hunters - he couldn’t have started his Saturday morning better.

“Anything new from the others, Vasquez?” he asked his deputy who had just finished talking to a walkie-talkie.

“No, boss. They didn’t find anything suspicious in the East. Deputy Schott fell from his horse and bruised his ass, though.” She grinned when John rolled his eyes.

The nerdy deputy was well-known for not being a fan of outside activities, and preferred to stay inside with his computers and gadgets, which didn’t stop the sheriff from kicking him out to the field for his own a little sadistic amusement every time he could.

But you didn’t hear it from him.

“I don’t like it.”

John glimpsed down at Ethan Knox, who was walking beside his horse with a nasty scowl on his face.

The best hunter in the area was gazing around like he wanted to set the bushes on fire, chop down the trees and blow sky-high the mountains that were hovering above them.

“You don’t like klutzy deputies?” John raised a brow.

Knox grumbled. “This place should have been full of deers and other animals but I haven't spotted any tracks for a while. I don’t hear birds either, this place is deserted.” The man spat on the ground. “The air feels bad, like it’s tainted.”

The sheriff bit the inside of his cheek, looking around. 

They were far away from Midvale, on the foot of the mountains in the North, miles from civilization. 

However, less than a century before, the place had been vivid with miners, exploiting gold and copper from local lodes. But right after the lodes ran out of the minerals, people left, leaving rusty equipment, damping shanties and empty shafts hidden inside of the mountains behind. 

The abandoned place was inhabited by all kinds of plants and animals, who made the area their domain. They were disturbed only by horse riders and dumb teens who loved to challenge themselves and get lost in the old mines and caves.

People said the old caves were haunted, claiming ghosts were seen there. Some urban legends about monsters living in the dark, woken up by greedy miners who had dug too deep roaming around the local community.

In the Sheriff’s humble opinion, people had seen The Lord of The Rings too many times. Even so, the truth was that he had spent a few days and nights searching for dumb teenagers and gold diggers lost in the caves. Yes, some dead bodies were found occasionally, and no, he didn’t feel sorry for them.

But now, after Knox’s words, he looked around more watchfully, ready to find evidence that the old hunter was getting crazy. 

He didn’t find anything. 

As he observed the sandy, clean banks, a nasty feeling blossomed in his chest.

John looked at Knox, who shrugged his arms with a gloomy face.

“I told you.”

There were no animal tracks on the sand, not even where the animals usually crossed the stream.

“Maybe the rain washed them away,” John suggested, trying to convince himself.

“Last time it rained was over a week ago,” the hunter spat on the ground again and shivered. “It’s not normal,” he said, and crossed himself.

Before John could have argued, Vasquez’s walkie-talkie made a sound, and he just knew he was not going to like it.

*

He was staring at Miss Danvers’s ass, and he was enjoying it.

That was a fact, but it was not his fault, he didn’t really have a choice.

After cleaning the boxes and feeding the horses, they saddled Sherry and Scotch and, guided by Miss Danvers, they headed to the gorge.

Now, he could either look to the left and watch a wall of stones and mud, or to the right to watch a wall of stones and mud. Not too exciting, if you asked him. He could also look up to the sky or down on Scotch’s head but it was out of the question, because his neck was still killing him.

So, his only option was looking straight ahead where his line of sight ended on the well shaped, suggestively moving up and down, hugged like second skin by the jeans ass of his employer.

He didn’t feel ashamed. Maybe a little awkward, because he didn’t remember the last time he appreciated the view of a beautiful human’s body, wondering what exactly was hidden under their clothes. It was probably on his last tour around East Europe, just before everything went to hell.

Anyway, he tried shifting his eyes a little higher to her back, but it didn’t help. Her golden hair tied in a low ponytail was shining under the sun, her arms were well toned and her neck was slender. Her moves were graceful and synchronized with her horse, making her look like a true Amazonian warrior. 

She had woken up some primary emotions inside of him, ones he was not aware he still had. That surprised him, he was not prepared to feel all of that again, on an ordinary Saturday morning. 

He heard Garth’s mocking laugh echoing on the back of his head.

It was like-

Mon-El almost fell down when his horse abruptly stopped. 

When he regained his balance, he noticed Miss Danvers had already leaped off Sherry’s back, and was tying her horse to the nearest tree. 

“You’re waiting for an invitation?” she threw over her shoulder.

He grunted, climbed down his horse and tied him to the tree as well.

“So, what do you think about it?” she asked, and pointed to a landslide that was blocking the path with her head. 

He scratched his chin and surveyed the view.

“Well, using dynamite is out of the question,” Mon-El said, and blinked when he realized what his military brain had just come up with.

He looked at Miss Danvers who was watching him questionably, with raised brows.

“I mean… the blast would cause more stones and mud to slide and...” his voice faded into a whisper, while she was just staring at him. “You know, I’m going to just shut up and-” he approached Scotch, and untied a shovel from the saddle.

Then he stuck the shovel into the mud and started tossing it at the side.

Behind his back, Miss Danvers smirked at his reddening neck, untied her shovel from the saddle, and joined him.

*

John Jones left the car, shutting the door with a sigh. But instead of charging into the station, he leaned on his patrol car and scowled at the nearest trash bin, trying to organize his thoughts.

The hunting party didn’t end like he predicted.

His deputies had found the corpse of a decomposing grizzly bear. 

At the first glimpse, he guessed the animal was dead for several weeks. The corpse looked like it was torn into pieces and scattered all over the place. 

So far, that was pretty normal for Midvale’s standards.

What was not normal was the bear’s head, which was found a few meters away, lying on a flat stone. The fangs were bared and the muzzle was frozen in a gruesome expresion, due to the beasts’ tongue and the eyes, mercilessly torn out.

Staring at the head, Sheriff Jones felt like his mind was divided in two halves.

The first one noticed that all the deputies and hunters were gaping at the head with wide eyes, some cursed, some crossed themselves (even the not religious ones), Knox started muttering Lord’s Prayer under his breath and John would have smirked, because he didn’t remember when the last time the hunter visited the church was. 

But he didn’t laugh.

The second one was calmly analyzing the view in the front of his eyes.

The remains of the grizzly bear were similarly scattered like the Grant’s bull, which meant it was probably killed by the same attacker. The head on the stone was torn or cut out from the corpse, mutilated and put there for a reason.

Which meant two things.

Some feral predator, probably a grizzly bear bigger or stronger than that one, was roaming in the area.

And some crazy fan of playing with the corpses of dead animals was also roaming in the local area.

Basically, it meant that one problem suddenly became two.

He needed to clasp his hands loudly and start giving the orders, so his deputies could start acting like law enforcers again and secure the place, take pics and samples. 

While his deputies were doing their job, he casually looked around the woods, stream banks and a meadow. 

Nothing unusual, yet, he felt more and more uneasy with every second.

When he passed his eyes over the many cave entrances that were not so far from them, he shivered.

He hoped it was because of a sudden cold gust of wind.

But his instinct told him something else.

At that moment, John Jones could swear he was being watched, and had to kill a nasty urge to turn on his heel and run away. 

Another gust of wind brought him back from the memories of the place where the grizzly was killed. 

The sheriff sighed and stopped glaring at the trash bin. 

He needed to move, enter the station and do the paperwork but he really was not in the mood. He would sell his kidney for any distraction or -

His phone rang. Not believing his luck, he fished it out from his pocket and looked at the screen. 

And then cursed loudly.

 _Annoying Barkeep_ was flashing on the screen.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counted to five and answered the call.

“Miss Morse, how can I help you?” he asked, gravely.

*

Surprisingly, Kara was not having a bad afternoon, in comparison to the super shitty morning.

Her meeting with the girls lasted until the middle of the night, and was filled with dumb toasts, juicy jokes, slurrish karaoke and never ending line of margaritas.

That was fun. 

What was not fun was waking up, WAY too early, to the sound of a galloping herd of buffaloes… that turned out to be a fucking fly hitting her window.

Her head was killing her, she felt like a resurrected zombie. The worst thing? The pills she swallowed right after she got up were not kicking in. So, she’d taken some more just before climbing her horse and it seemed they finally worked.

Yes, she was slightly high when she stuck the shovel into the mud, but she didn’t give a shit, because finally she didn’t feel like throwing up all over herself, and her head was not acting like a sound detector.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, insects were buzzing in the grass, Gand didn’t smell and her mood was improving with every shoveled pile of mud. 

Happily humming under her breath, she decided to postpone her plans to torture his ass and instead enjoy the sunny weather.

But well, unfortunately for Mr Gand, a drugged Kara was a happy Kara and a happy Kara was a talkative Kara. And a happy and drugged Kara? 

Boy didn’t know what was going to kick his balls. 

*

“So, what do you think about the sperm donor?”

The shovel hit the stone, slipped off of it and almost amputated his right foot, but he didn’t notice. Instead, he turned his head and looked at Miss Danvers.

He… had misheard her, right?

“Pardon me?” He blinked, staring at her smiling self, leaning on her shovel casually and watching him with big, happy eyes that were gleaming with something that made him shiver.

“You know, my ex?” She smiled wider and he felt a cold drop of sweat slowly running down his spine.

“Your ex...” he said slowly, trying (and falling) to force his brain to work again and connect the dots he was obviously missing.

Mon-El had no idea what the hell had happened. But he tried to gather the facts:

  1. Miss Danvers was pissed off in the morning,
  2. Now she was unexpectedly happy,
  3. She was asking about her ex partner (codename: sperm donor).



Conclusion? He had no fucking idea what was going on.

“So?” She smiled encouragingly and it was the scariest thing he had seen in his life. 

“Uhm...” he frantically searched his brain for memories of the dude, but he was so bland Mon-El couldn't remember much about him. He was tall, had piggy eyes, a square jaw, annoying voice and Baree would love to sharpen his fangs on the dude’s shanks. 

From the few lines he had heard, he concluded her ex was a cocky, arrogant, assholish, wealthy man-child who probably always got what he wanted and if he didn’t, he threw tantrums. Basically someone who Mon-El would avoid like a plague.

But he was not going to tell her that… wait, what exactly _should_ he tell her to keep his job? She was plotting something, wasn't she?

Miss Danvers was watching him expectantly, with big, round eyes and he suddenly felt like he was standing on a minefield with a grenade in his hand.

She slowly put the sleeves up and exposed her arms. 

He hoped it was not a preparation to beat him with her shovel, in case the answer he was going to give ended up being the wrong one.

Mon-El gulped. “Well… he-”

“Yes?” her eyes were big, blue and waiting for the right answer.

But what the fuck was the right answer?

_What to say? What to say to keep his job?! She obviously was not a fan of her ex, but what if she didn’t like when others trashed him? Damn! Was that some kind of a devilish test to examine his character or something?_

“-has fine... hair?” he finished lamely, and waited for a verdict.

She looked at him for one, two, three, four heart beats and then threw her head back, snorting loudly.

Mon-El sighed in relief and stuck his shovel into the mud.

He didn’t know it was not the end of the torture that was (un)planned for the day.

“Yeah, his hair was the thing I fell for in the first place, when I think about it,” she wiped her eyes from tears and stuck her shovel into the mood too. 

Miss Danvers threw the mud aside and he had to admit that her muscles shifted on her tanned arms quite beautifully.

And then realized with horror she was still talking to him.

“He was the popular king kong of the school, who didn’t notice me for the first two years and then bam! In his last year, he suddenly got interested in me, the clumsy Junior… probably only because I'd finally grown some boobs and started wearing skirts.” She looked at him through squeezed eyes. “No comments about my shitty taste in men?”

Remember how he felt like he was standing on the minefield with a grenade in his hand? _She just pulled the pin._

He stared at her without a sound for a few long seconds. “I dated a girl who thought the Earth was flat,” he said unblinkingly. 

She was not amused, damn.

“And once I made out with a guy who thought Christianity was not a religion from the Middle East because The Bible was written in English.”

This time Miss Danvers laughed so hard that some birds sitting on the nearest pine flew away hastily.

And he decided he liked the sound of her laugh.

“You made out with him before or after he said that?” she asked when she calmed down. 

“After, it was the only way to shut him up, because the next thing he asked was if people from other countries were celebrating 4th of July too.” He shrugged and tossed more mud to the side, happy because it seemed his job was saved.

“Touché.” She smiled and tossed more mud aside. “Too bad my relationship with my ex didn’t stop just on making out,” she hummed and dug her shovel so hard in the ground that Mon-El thought it was going to break.

“The fucking idiot lied about putting a condom one time,” she said, still smiling but rather chillingly, digging and tossing the mud like a machine. “And here I was, pregnant, at the end of my Junior year, while my amazing boyfriend was heading to college to fulfill his dreams, promising me to call and visit on every opportunity. But guess fucking what?” she threw some mud so strongly it landed on the other side of the stream. 

“He didn’t,” Mon-El said, quietly. 

“Yep. Asshole didn’t give a sign of life for years,” she stopped digging and glared at the mud, probably wanting to destroy it with heat vision like some superpowered hero from a comic book.

Mon-El was pretty sure she was fantasizing about doing it to her ex. He couldn’t blame her.

“Then my two little monsters were born, my plans for going to college postponed and later forgotten and I-” she stared at the mud with furrowed brows.

And he thought he understood what she was thinking about, but before he could have said something, she shrugged her shoulders and pierced him with her comets.

“So, no comments about my bad life choices?”

He gulped, because he could not decide if the blue fire that was dancing in her eyes was mirth or a promise of giving him a notice if she didn’t like his answer.

“Don’t think I’m the best judge here,” he answered finally. “After all, I enlisted right after graduation and chose explosive ordnance disposal as a career path. Some could say it was not the smartest choice,” he said flatly. 

She chuckled and flashed him a genuine smile and he just had to smile back. 

They returned silently to their work, but something was bothering him. Something she said. The look on her face. 

He bit the insides of his cheek and debated in his head if he should have said something or not. Probably not. It was likely a bad idea. It was going to kick his ass later, because once again he was getting… attached.

But knowing his luck, in the end he was going to get screwed anyway.

Mon-El cleared his throat.

“What does the asshole do for a living?” he asked while still digging. 

“Hm?” She raised her head and looked at him. “Oh, I’m not sure, I think he’s a manager in one of his daddy’s firms or something.”

“What kind of school has he finished?”

“He graduated in law, but-” she blinked and then a smug smile blossomed on her lips. “But he didn’t find a job for a few years and was doing absolutely nothing.”

“Interesting way to fulfill his dreams,” he said with a serious voice, and she laughed again.

“I think raising two amazing kids as a single mom and running a stable is something to feel proud of,” he said gently after a moment, while tossing the mud.

He felt the weight of her stare on the side of his face. 

Miss Danvers didn’t say a word for a long moment and when he thought that he should have stayed silent, she said:

“Well, I was never alone, my family was always there to help,” she answered with a warm voice. “What about your family?” she asked, suddenly.

He froze for a second, but he forced himself to move, hoping she didn’t notice.

She did.

“Haven’t really talked to my mother since I enlisted,” he said simply, focusing on his work, forcing himself to not think about that _woman_.

Miss Danvers opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, without a sound, and returned to the shoveling too.

He was grateful for that.

*

Kara was shamelessly staring at his ass. 

She could look at her right or left and enjoy watching the wall of stones. She could look up to feel the sun rays on her face, or she could stare at her horse’s head.

But nope. Instead, she glued her eyes to the well shaped, suggestively moving up and down, hugged like second skin by the jeans ass of her employee, who was riding in front of her.

She was enjoying it. Like hell. And you know what? Screw it all, she deserved something good in her life and if it was the sexy back of a man, especially when she didn’t see his bearded face. Yes, it was almost all that she needed at that moment.

And no, she was not going to think about everything she said to him, all the embarrassing personal stuff she confessed while being high - she left that for the night, when she was going to lie in bed and feel absolutely embarrassed about it. (Maybe taking a bottle of whiskey to her bed was not a bad idea?)

But now, she just enjoyed the spectacle of shifting muscles in front of her. 

He was still not her type, though. With that beard and long hair, and no, just no. Sometimes even his breathing pissed her off, not to mention his silent stares, monosyllabic answers, grunts or obsession with explosives.

On the other hand…

She had to admit, with his ass moving upside down in front of her eyes, that he had a nice body. Really nice body. Not too muscular, not too thin, perfect to run her hands all over. 

And he had a deep, pleasurable voice that almost sounded like music to her ears... when he decided to say something other than monosyllables.

Surprisingly, after he decided to talk more, it seemed as though he was not as dull as she predicted, and he had more layers than she thought. She enjoyed their talk, and well, there was space for improvement in their interactions. He sounded like a possibly good partner for their future banters. 

And the little bits of his past he revealed…

Suddenly, firing him didn’t sound that good. Instead, she wanted to learn more about him and peel him from his layers like an onion - not because she liked him or something, God no! She was just bored and starved for good entertainment, and he could offer it.

All she needed to do was a little... poking.

 _Yep, just poking here and there_ , she thought, while biting the insides of her cheek, staring at his ass.

Besides, as she mentioned more than once before, this caveman was _absolutely_ not her type, so there was no need to worry about possible future complications.

_Right…?_

*

“Uhm, what are we doing here again, boss?” 

John sighed, while fighting his way through the bushes. 

Why did he take Deputy Schott with him? 

“Because Miss Morse is concerned about missing citizens and we have to check it, obviously,” he answered, flatly.

“Uhm, not because Megan was screaming so loud at you through the ph-”

Sheriff Jones glared at his deputy over his shoulder, which was enough for him to immediately shut up, trip and almost fall down.

Which reminded John of why he had dragged his deputy with him - Winn was eavesdropping his conversation with Miss Morse with an incredibly annoying look on his smug face, and John just had to punish him somehow.

Now he was regretting it, but at least Schott shut his cake hole up.

“Uhm, boss?”

Not for long, though. _Damn it._

“Yes, Deputy.”

“Is it really wise to walk through the forest while some kind of monster is running loose in the area?”

“First of all, Deputy, we’re law officers and it’s our job. Secondly, I have a rifle. Thirdly, it’s not a monster, just a big bear.”

Because what could have killed a big bear? A bigger bear, obviously. This was what Sheriff Jones was going to believe until proven otherwise. 

“Uhmm, the bear was killed at the foot of the mountains, near the old mines, right? And you know that on the other side of the range, there are-”

John killed the urge to roll his eyes, because he was pretty sure that some conspiracy theory was incoming.

“-kryptonite mines? And I have read on a forum that they are probably connected to the cave system that runs under the mountains. And what if, some animal got there and mutated? I read that-”

This time John rolled his eyes. 

All he knew about the kryptonite, a new mineral that was discovered not long before, was that it was dangerous, unstable and all scientists around the world were getting super excited while just thinking about it. 

He also knew that all rights to exploit the ore belonged to L-Corp now, which had pissed Ben Lockwood off like nothing else.

And he could not blame the guy.

“-it’s confidential information but it is said that black kryptonite can change DNA and-”

John opened his mouth to say he really didn’t give a shit, but instead stopped abruptly when he spotted something lying under a tree on the side of the path. 

Lost in his monologue, Winn walked into him and hit his head.

“Owww, boss! You should-'' deputy Schott while massaging his forehead, looked at Sheriff Jones who was standing still and staring at something with a blank expression.

Winn followed his boss’ line of sight, but his brain refused to process what he was seeing.

Because for sure he was not looking at a headless human body that was lying under that tree, right? 

Winn took a step back and trod on something. 

When he moved his foot, he saw a human heart.

He fell to his knees and threw up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the stories about Mon's exes are real, I found them on internet after googling "dumbest shit people said".  
> I didn't plan making Kara getting high, that was an accident.  
> Hope this chap was not too ... cheesy.  
> And I know I put a lot of loose ends and hints here and there but I promise I'm going to slowly explain shit in the next chaps. For now, please bear with me.  
> Btw, next chap? Mon is attending the dinner and *EVIL LAUGH* it's going to be fun.  
> Anyway, hope you are all safe and sound.  
> Thank you for redading, comments, thoughts and criticism are welcome!  
> Love you all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love, love, love for my amazing beta reader karxmels.  
> Writing this chap was a pain in my ass. It turned sometimes funnier, sometimes angstier, sometimes more adorable than I planned. I hope you are going to like it.  
> Also... I planted about 17 hints for future plot development in this chap. JFYI xD  
> Enjoy!

_Everyday I try to explain_  
_How my mind is bound in chains_  
_There's no way_  
_What a shame_

*

Lurking in the cave’s darkness, the creature was watching the people on the horses.

The monster slowly raised its head and hissed as it sniffed the air through its widened nostrils.

It could smell them. Their scent was a mix of sweat, horse reek, shit and anxiety. 

The creature bared its teeth and drops of thick saliva dropped on the ground. 

It wanted to rush down the hillside, leap on them and tear them to pieces. Rip off their hearts, feel their flesh shredding under its claws, hear their screams.

To taste their fear. Would it taste and smell the same as the bear’s? 

The animal was supposed to be an equal opponent with its strong jaw and sharp claws. When they started the fight, the bear had smelled confident. After all, the grizzly had been the king of the valley for years. 

But the animal was too slow, and in the end, it didn’t stand a chance against the creature’s primal rage. Soon, when the monster dug its claws into the bear’s ribcage, the animal smelled nothing but fear, pain and finally death.

After the white veil of rage that was clogging its mind faded away, the creature stood over the massacred bear’s body panting loudly. 

It felt... disappointed. 

The bear turned out to be a weak opponent, like the man the creature had killed not long before. The man was pathetic; his death had been so easy and quick that he wasn't even scared. 

But the people on the horses at the bottom of the valley had guns. There were many of them. They smelled like warriors. Could they have been worthy opponents? Opponents who could -

One of the men was gazing around, and for a second, their sights crossed. 

A wave of hot rage and hate overflew the creature. 

Blurred memories, scents and voices flooded its brain. 

The creature growled lowly and tensed its muscles, ready to leap and charge at the group.

But the man didn’t notice the monster that was hiding in the shadows of the cave and his gaze shifted to another place.

The creature relaxed and stopped growling.

It was not the time. Not yet.

The monster hissed for the last time and slowly crawled back to the cave’s depth, fading into the darkness.

*

The rain that had been falling consistently, all day long was one of the reasons why Kara Danvers was pissed off, yet not the main one.

When she heard the doorbell, she frowned at a clock on her night stand. 

It was 2:58 PM, so it had to be Gand.

She growled and went down the stairs to let him in. 

The main motive for her murderous mood was Alura and Harry forcing her to wear a dress, instead of her comfy plaid shirt and jeans. 

Their reasoning was ridiculous - couldn't she have praised the Lord on the Sunday dinner wearing casual clothes? Since freaking _when_? They didn’t have that problem a week ago when she ate dinner wearing pajama pants! She would have offended their guest? Guest?! He was their freaking employee! And why did they have a problem with tying her hair into a messy bun?! Huh?!! And what exactly was she going to offend? His unkempt beard?! And why did she need to shave her legs?! They were not hairy yet… not that much!

Saying that Kara was irritated when she climbed down the stairs to open the door was an understatement. 

Pulling down her grey flowery dress and glimpsing at a mirror to check if no loose curls escaped her crown braid, she decided that it was all _his_ fault _again_. 

She was going to punish him and make him suffer, starting with greeting him with her well-mastered scowl. 

That was Kara Danvers’ master plan when she opened the door.

The plan went to shit a second later, because the handsome man who was standing on the porch was certainly not Gand, the caveman.

His hair was short and neatly combed, a little damp from the rain, his eyes were deliciously grayish-blue and light stubble graced his cheeks. The two top buttons of his white, rumpled shirt were undid, so she could see that he had a nice neck and collarbones and-

 _Oh, boy, who are you beautiful stranger because you're surely my type,_ Kara thought, while admiring his tanned exposed forearms and then -

And then she glanced at his side, where Baree was standing and wagging his tail like crazy.

Her mouth formed a perfect O when she looked back at freaking Michael Gand’s face.

He was watching her calmly with a raised brow.

“Your mom said I could bring him with me,” he said, and handed her a bottle of white wine he had been holding.

Without a word, with her mouth still wide open, she took the bottle, staring at his face without blinking.

He slowly raised his second brow.

“Michael! Perfect timing!” Suddenly, Alura appeared at Kara’s side and snatched the bottle from her still raised hand. “The Independent Chardonnay! You remembered, how nice,” she smiled and motioned him in. 

“Mr. Gand!” TJ ran down the stairs and somehow managed not to kill himself. He did trip on the carpet, colliding with the Mon-El, but the man steadied him easily. “Oops sorry I didn’t mean to but I was so excited to hear you finally come because I want to show you my book collection can I show him them before the dinner mom mom mooooom why she is frozen granny can we-”

Kara was receiving 1/5 of the information she was hearing (at most), because she was still gaping at the space where Gand had been standing a few seconds before.

_He… how… like…? When… this- this- face…_

She could not believe that he was almost perfectly her freaking type.

Kara came back to her senses only when Alura shut the door.

It seemed that her son had dragged Gand away, because they were standing alone in the hall.

“For God’s sake, Kara, stop embarrassing yourself and close your mouth,” her mother hissed. “And stop drooling.”

“I’m not!” Kara snapped, while wiping the corner of her mouth, and squinted her eyes with suspicion. “How did he know what your favourite wine brand was?”

Alura brushed non existing crumbs from her dress. “I might have mentioned it yesterday, when I brought him some leftovers,” she answered nonchalantly, not looking at her daughter. “You know I hate wasting food.”

“And why is he shaved?” Kara hissed, a very nasty feeling slowly growing within her stomach.

“Why should I know? But it was a shame that he was hiding his pretty face under the beard. Have you seen that jaw? I’m sure he has dimples when he smiles. Oh, stop looking at me like that. Men shave their faces, Kara. But isn’t it a nice coincidence you wore a dress tonight? You match your clothes.” Alura turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen. “And you even shaved your legs! But knowing you, there are other places that need-”

“MOTHER!” 

*

Sam Arias saved the protocol that she had been writing for a while and turned off her laptop. 

Then sighed and looked at the black body bag on the autopsy table. 

She had never imagined, not even in her worst nightmares, that her first autopsy would have been someone she knew. 

“Silly me,” Sam murmured, and approached the table. 

She looked blankly at the massacred remains, remembering all that she had learnt so far.

Hole in the ribcage, broken ribs, ripped off or cut out heart, flesh torn to pieces, cuts on the bones and... the head.

She stared at the face, not seeing any familiar traits of a man who used to come to her if he needed treatment, bringing wild flowers in return. 

His face was too damaged. Mouth opened and frozen in a silent scream. Right cheek slashed and torn, she could see teeth inside of his mouth. The second one looked like it was bitten or clawed off. Eyes were yanked out.

Sam frowned, staring at the empty eye sockets. Something was off there, and she didn’t know what.

Aside from the fact that the head was found twenty feet away from the remains. It hadn't been cut off by a tool, more like wrenched, or ripped off. How strong the attacker needed to be to do something like that?

Looking at the remains made her uneasy for a reason she didn’t know.

It made her feel unprofessional and she didn’t like it.

The door to the dissecting room was opened with a bang.

“Hey, Sam! I... OOMPF!”

She calmly zipped the bag and turned to Winn, who was hovering over a trash bin, with his hands flat on the wall and breathing heavily.

“Please, tell me you didn’t just throw up into my bin, Winnie-The-Pooh,” she said flatly, and took off her gloves. 

“Not yet,” Winn answered weakly, when she junked the gloves to the bin.

“Shouldn’t you have gotten used to it?” she sighed. “Besides, you’ve seen the remains already.”

“It was dark,” he moaned weakly. “And it didn’t smell that bad, how can you stand working here?” he asked, his face white. “I think I need some fresh air.”

Sam rolled her eyes and, after washing her hands, kicked him out, turned the lights off and locked the door.

“Why are you even here?” she asked, while heading to the exit. 

“Uhm, boss sent me to see if you found something interesting,” he said faintly, his face turning into an interesting shade of zombie green.

“I already called him,” Sam frowned and opened the door.

They walked outside, to the parking lot. “I took some samples and need to wait for results. And I need to consult things with some normal vet who can tell me if-”

“If what?” 

Sam sighed at the view of the sleepiest journalist in Midvale, who had appeared out of nowhere.

“No comments,” she said, flatly.

“Oh come on, Sam, are we not friends?” Nia smiled, and made her infamous puppy eyes. “One, short comment, citizens of Midvale deserve to know the truth.”

“No,” Sam answered, completely unaffected. 

“God, I hate when you play the professional bitch,” Nia sniffed.

“They called me Reign in college for a reason,” Sam deadpanned and pointed to Winn. “But I’m sure Deputy Schott is going to _not_ inform you about the case in a less professional way,” Sam smiled when Nia looked at Winn sceptically, probably thinking of how to grill his ass and learn what she wanted.

As for Winn, he suddenly bent over and threw up right on Nia’s shoes.

The three of them looked for a few long seconds and the remains of three donuts and coffee on the journalist’s shoes. 

Winn looked up. Nia looked up and stared at him hard.

Sam didn’t stare, she just turned on her heel and got the hell out of there; she had had enough of autopsies for that day, for sure. Besides, deducing from Nia’s rapidly darkening face, the journalist was ready to commit a cold blooded murder.

*

“No new dreams or episodes?” 

JJ shook her head shortly, and put a hand into her pocket. Somehow, he knew she was closing her hand around his dog tags.

“Maybe they’re gone?” TJ asked, with such intense hope in his eyes that Mon-El almost wanted to lie.

But it would not help anyone.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured, and felt a pang of regret when the boy’s shoulders sagged. “But don’t worry, I’m going to contact a friend who may help.”

JJ looked at him from under her bangs, rather mockingly.

“Ok, maybe not a friend but...” He massaged his neck, trying to find a proper substitute for ' _a pain in the ass'_. “A sidekick.”

She nodded, and bored into him. She tapped her cheek, and without TJ’s assistance, Mon-El knew what she was asking. 

“Your grandma suggested that I shave, for some reason, and she didn’t look like she would take no for an answer.”

JJ snorted exactly like her mother and headed to the door. She opened it at the moment Mrs. Danvers called, saying that dinner was ready.

*

Kara was angrily digging into her dinner, murdering the already dead, well-fried and seasoned chicken on her plate with her stare.

She could do this, and ignore her mother who was kicking her feet under the table from time to time, or instead, she could throw a knife at the guy who was sitting in front of her. There was no other option.

Because yes, he was sitting in front of her and she was sure it was her dear mother’s plan.

The nasty impression she got earlier was correct - Alura wanted her to get laid.

As gross as it was, she would have just ignored it if he hadn’t shaved and cut his hair, which made him look… extraordinarily… good. 

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have found him that attractive, even if he really had cute dimples when he smiled (dammit!), because yes, for Kara Danvers, personality was important as well.

Too bad (for her) he was some modern twisted version of Samson, who instead of losing strength after cutting his hair, has lost his monosyllabic and withdrawn nature.

She took a bite of the chicken and glimpsed at the man who was smiling charmingly and answering one of Harry's questions. She didn’t know exactly what he was saying, because her gaze had been focused on his lips.

He threw her a quick look, and somehow, she knew he had noticed.

Kara impaled another piece of meat on her fork and put it angrily into her mouth. 

What the hell was going on? Why was he so… so… charming tonight?

He was chatting with Harry, didn’t complain when Alura put another mountain of food on his plate, was listening to TJ’s monologues with a slightly tilted head - and it seemed that he understood her son’s babblings, because he asked questions about the kids’ school project and accepted salt from JJ, even when he didn’t ask for it.

Kara tensed when she saw it, but relaxed when he simply added some to his potatoes. It seemed as though he didn’t notice he hadn't asked for salt.

She sighed and then grimaced, because her whole family was eating from his hand. Even her sweet JJ, who was usually an amazing character reader, didn’t mind him. It was quite obvious for Kara that he avoided answering personal questions, talked as little as he could about himself and changed the subjects every time it got too personal.

But it seemed that the members of her dear family were not bothered by it.

 _Traitors_ , she thought, angrily, while munching lettuce. 

A quiet whimper made her look at her knees, where Baree had put his head at the beginning of the dinner and was watching her every move with big, loving eyes.

She relaxed her tensed muscles, took a piece of the meat from her plate and fed him.

At least the big boy was on her side.

Kara looked triumphally at Gand, but he was focusing on her son. He raised his glass and took a small sip of his wine. She noticed he had long fingers, and watched with fascination how his Adam’s apple bobbled when he swallowed.

“Kara.”

He also had a quite sexy mole on the side of his throat.

“Kara, I asked you a question,” she came back to reality when Harry’s annoyed voice finally reached her ears.

“Yes, sorry, I- I wasn’t paying attention,” she said, and felt her cheeks getting warmer.

“I noticed.” Harry clicked her tongue and Kara was sure her grandmother knew she was ogling their guest.

 _Damn_.

“I asked if you’ve finished clearing the passage in the gorge.”

“Yes! It is passable, maybe it still needs some shoveling, but we can bring guests there again.”

Harry nonchalantly took a sip of the wine. “Did you check if there are more obstacles on the path?”

Kara blinked. “Mhm, no.”

“Oh well, it means I need to check it myself,” Harry sighed. “Even if my hip is bothering me lately.”

Kara immediately felt guilty. “I will check it tomorrow, don’t worry! I-”

And then something knocked hard on her skull.

Harry? Admitting her hip was bothering her? What...? Wait! She didn’t-

“Great!” Alura clapped her hands. “I think you should take dear Michael with you,” she said, happily, and Kara almost dropped her fork.

On his side of the table, Gand stopped cutting his meat and looked up. His eyes moved from Harry to Alura, and stopped on Kara.

He gulped.

“What?! I don’t need help!”

“You did yesterday,” Alura reminded her sweetly. “And if there is another obstacle you’ll need a hand.”

“But!-”

“I guess, I’ll need to ride there myself with Michael,” Harry sighed. “Even with my hip...”

Kara opened her mouth to scream, but shut it without a sound. 

She could go there with this guy, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do now, or let Harry ride there and injure her hip more. 

They had played her. Her own blood and flesh had played her!

Kara glared at Gand, who - very smartly - focused on his food. 

“I’ll go there,” she said, coldly.

“Great! Michael, you can go with her, right?” Alura’s voice was dripping with honey.

He raised his eyes and looked at her, watching him like a hawk. He moved his sight to Harry, who reminded him of a shark at that moment.

And then he shifted his eyes and stared at Kara, who was probably fantasizing about hitting his head with a shovel (she was).

He weighed his survival chances. Would it be better to make the ladies disappointed, or Miss Danvers angry?

“With pleasure, ma’am,” he answered.

His words made the two older ladies beam, and somehow, it was scarier than Miss Danvers's dark expression, promising him that bad things were going to happen in the near future.

*

Fortunately for him, they finished the dinner soon after. He sighed with relief when he was standing in the hall, waiting for Alura who insisted on bringing him some leftovers. 

_Few more minutes and he was going to be safe,_ he thought, while listening to TJ, who was shooting a monologue about the project for his and JJ’s science classes (a volcano) and asking him for help. 

He was also trying to ignore Miss Danvers, who was standing not too far away from them, with folded arms and a scowl on her face.

Suddenly, he noticed that TJ stopped talking, tipped his head a little, and Mon-El knew he was listening to his sister.

“Who is Mon-El?” the boy asked, sounding confused, and a cold chill ran through Mon-El’s spine.

JJ stepped on her brother’s foot. 

“What? But..! Oh- ” the boy glimpsed nervously at his mother who tensed and inhaled loudly.

“I mean- I think-” TJ bit his lip.

“I mentioned it last time when you played with Baree, remember?” Mon-El said softly, praying he didn’t sound like a liar. “It’s… it’s a nickname my friend gave me when we were kids. I used it in the army.”

“Oh, right!” Thankfully, the boy managed to compose himself. “It’s pretty cool, sounds like a hero’s name.”

Mon-El tensed. “Yeah, it… does.”

“But can you help us with the project?”

“I-” Mon-El glanced at Miss Danvers, whose face was watching them with furrowed brows.

“Here is it,” Alura appeared with a basket full of food. “Hope you will enjoy it.”

Before she could hand it to him, Kara snatched it from her hand.

“I’ll see Mr. Gand out, we have some things to discuss about tomorrow,” she said, and left the house.

“Thank you for the dinner, hope I was not a bother,” he said to Alura, but kept his eyes on Miss Danvers retreating back.

“Nonsense, I hope we will see you again on the next Sunday,” she came out to the porch with him and waved him goodbye.

“What do you think?” she asked, when Harry joined her a moment later.

They stared at the walking couple.

“Everything is in God's hands,” the older lady said, and lit her pipe. “But I will chop His hand off, if He screws it,” she added flatly. 

(Somewhere in Heaven, God sweated.)

“Speaking of body parts, he has a fine ass,” Alura said, cheerfully.

“I noticed,” Harry agreed. “I think Kara noticed too,“ she added smugly, and drew a smoke.

Alura grinned. “He’s quite charming when he decides to come out of his shell.”

“Kids like him.”

“And Kara hates him.”

“Or so she thinks.” Both ladies shared matching smirks.

“It’s going to be fun,” Harry muttered. 

“I just hope she doesn't screw it either,” Alura added, while watching Kara stop and put the basket on the ground.

*

Looking at her tense back, he knew what was coming and what he had to do, even if he was mentally exhausted from pretending to be a nice, charming guy for the evening. 

He wasn’t charming. Maybe a year ago, but not anymore.

And now, he needed all his wits and energy to make her believe that he was not a threat to her family.

So, when she put the basket on the ground and turned to him, with a mix of anger and concern swirling in her blue eyes, he knew he only had one chance.

“I’m sorry,” Mon-El said simply, and wiped his damp hands on his pants, nervously.

She furrowed her brows. “For what?” she asked, confusedly. 

“I-” he sighed and scratched his cheek, trying to organize his thoughts. 

_I’m not good at this shit,_ he thought and looked straight into her eyes.

“My name is Michael Gand, but my friends, I don’t have that many of them though, call me Mon-El. I’m 28. My father died in an accident when I was six and I’ve spent most of my childhood on my granddad’s ranch. As for my mother… we don’t really talk to each other,” he took a deep breath and focused his gaze on some point over Kara’s shoulder.

“I enlisted after I graduated, but you know that already. I'm an ex Navy EOD tech, and spent a few tours in the Eastern Europe war. I resigned… after… I got wounded on my last tour. I can give you a number to Colonel Hayley, my commanding officer if you need to check it,” he absently stroked Baree’s head when the animal came near him.

“When I left the army I adopted a dog and traveled with him for some months, because… I guess I needed to clear my head,” he sighed, and looked into her eyes again. “And then I ended up here and met your children.” A small smile appeared on the corner of his lips, but he sobered down in the next second.

“I understand that it may look suspicious - a grown man befriending kids but...” he looked down at Baree who was watching him with worried eyes, sensing his master’s anxiety. 

He took a deep breath.

“I guess they make me stop thinking about… things,” he muttered under his breath, but she heard him.

He raised his head, and once again, bore into her comets, his eyes steady, calm, and grey.

“I apologize if I crossed any boundaries, I swear I mean no harm, but if you think I’m a threat to your children, I’ll stop interacting with them.”

*

He surprised her.

His startled face when TJ asked him about his nickname put her on full alert.

Did he notice her children didn’t behave normally, as other kids? He composed himself quickly but it made her anxious. 

JJ was special, Kara knew that since she held her for the first time, after a horribly long delivery that almost ended with the death of her little girl. 

Her daughter was a quiet and calm warrior, who could make adults uneasy with her steady, judgmental stares. She could tell someone was coming to visit, she could predict the weather, do things just before Kara asked her, perfectly judge people’s characters, find lost things... It was her favorite game, when Jeremiah hid his tools or small objects and asked her to find them. JJ could always find them. And she just… knew things. Their whole family had accepted it, treated it as something normal, but not all people saw it this way. 

Her daughter soon learnt her lesson and kept things to herself and their family. However, after Jeremiah died and JJ stopped talking, TJ became her voice, and sometimes things slipped when they were not careful.

Fear twisted Kara’s stomach into a tight knot.

All she ever wanted was to make her children happy, normal and accepted. To keep them safe and sound, away from people who might find their abilities... useful.

Like people from the army.

Did Michael Gand notice? Did he really mention his nickname before or was it just a cover? Was this stranger a danger to her children?

When she put the basket down all she wanted was to ensure that he was not a threat, and her family was safe.

But he… it was almost as though he had read her mind, and exposed himself in a way she didn’t expect.

He clearly struggled with his words, but his eyes were sincere and voice steady. 

There were unclear parts in his story that screamed to be filled, but she realized, a little surprised, that she wanted to believe him. 

Perhaps it was because of the look on TJ’s face when he was describing the plot of his favorite book to the man. His excited and hopeful eyes when he asked Gand to help him with their school project. 

Maybe it was because JJ was listening to him with interest, and Kara had never seen her that relaxed in the presence of a person she knew so shortly.

Watching her children around him made her want to trust him.

“You are a weirdo,” she said, after a moment of silence.

He titled his head. “Thanks.”

“That was not a compliment.” Kara rolled her eyes. “Just don’t put anything on fire while helping my kids,” she sighed, and started walking.

“Miss Danvers,” he called after her, when she passed him.

“Hmm?” she looked at him over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly.

“Just to be clear, I don’t trust you completely and I’m going to keep an eye on you. Besides, your probation is not over, so don’t feel too relaxed.”

He smiled a little, and maybe her heart skipped a beat.

Which annoyed her and made her want to wipe the smile off his face.

“You may call me Kara, you know,” she said, and it was her time to smirk when he blinked confusedly.

Before he could say anything, she started walking again, smiling broadly.

And then she realized she asked him to call her by her name.

Shocked, she climbed the stairs, ignoring the two ladies who were still standing on the porch, and entered the house.

Harry and Alura glanced at the door, and then at Michael, who was still standing frozen where Kara left him.

He was staring at the door, and it was too far to be sure, but he had quite the dumb expression on his face.

“I will be damned,” Harry muttered.

“She didn’t screw it,” Alura said.

After a silent moment, the two ladies fist bumped each other.

*

“I’m sorry I mentioned his nickname, you just caught me off guard when I heard you say it in my brain.”

JJ heard her brother shift on the bed above her.

_It’s ok. It was my fault, I should have used his name._

She rubbed the dog tags with her thumb. 

_Gand Michael L._

_498-00-117_

_0 POS_

_NO PREF_

“Mom noticed, didn’t she?”

_Yes. But it doesn’t matter._

She heard TJ sigh.

“Maybe we should tell her that, you know, he’s like you?”

This time, she sighed and turned the dog tags.

_She is not… ready yet. She would just freak out._

“I don’t like lying like that,” he murmured and yawned.

_We don’t lie, we just don’t tell her anything._

“Right, and for sure she’ll see it that way when she learns about it.”

JJ rolled her eyes, sensing his sarcasm, but said nothing, because he was drifting to sleep. Instead she looked at the backside of the first dog tag. 

_Mon-El_

She caressed the name with her thumb. It looked like it was carved by a nail or something sharp, because the letters were irregular.

It was weird, but the piece of metal comforted her. 

Then she looked at the second piece of metal.

_Lightning Lad_

She wondered how anyone could have chosen such an idiotic nickname. 

But then she yawned, put the tags under her t-shirt, and fell asleep.

In her dream, she was running through a ruined city, chased by someone. She was throwing looks over her shoulder, but couldn’t see who was chasing her.

In the morning, she didn’t remember the dream. 

Like she didn’t remember she was dreaming it many times before.

*

Kara growled and turned in her bed.

She could not fall asleep.

It was hot in the room, her bed was weirdly uncomfortable and the fucking full moon was shining like crazy.

But she knew that was not the problem, the problem was Gand, but she refused to think about him.

Too bad her traitorous mind had other ideas, and was sending her the unwelcomed images.

Like the way he smiled a little, and how it reached his eyes, making them warmer. How the dimples had appeared a few times on his cheeks. The sound of his voice, smooth and thick, like caramel. His long fingers, holding the silverware. She wondered if they were long enough -

Kara growled, opened her eyes, and turned on her side.

Did he really have to shave and cut his hair? The caveman turned into some freaking prince charming, and unfortunately, he was exactly her type.

And she certainly didn’t need, or want him to be her type. Nope. Thank you very much, she had enough problems on her head.

Taxes, loan, Harry’s hip, JJ refusing to talk, Brandy’s hooves problems with abscess, Alex not answering her calls, sperm donor’s weird behavior, broken Mr. Trembly, her unresolved sexual tension -

Kara groaned again and turned onto her back, daggering the ceiling with her angry stare.

Okay, she hadn't had sex for… some time. The last time was with William, and well, clearly it had been a mistake. The fact that they hooked up at the night her father died in the L-Corp explosion didn’t help their relationship. When she thought about it, it was a blessing he worked in National City and left soon after. And when they met again -

She turned on her other side.

_Bad thoughts._

Maybe thinking about Gand was not a horrible idea.

She bet he had hair on his chest. Not too much, just enough, like she liked it. She wondered how his body looked under that rumbled white shirt. His chest was probably well toned, not too muscular, just perfect to run her hands on. And then move to his stomach and lower to-

Kara sighed and closed her eyes when her stomach tensed with anticipation, and the place between her legs started to ache.

Her hand moved there slowly, while his face appeared behind her closed eyes and-

Kara growled like a wounded animal, standing up.

She was not going to _pleasure_ herself while thinking about that man.

No. Way. In. Hell.

She was not that desperate, God damn it!

Kara entered the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. She took a sip and looked through the window.

And choked on the water, because, in the moonlight, she spotted him, sitting on his porch.

She stared at his small figure for a few long moments, trying to decide if going there and screaming at him was a good idea.

It was absolutely not, because she was afraid it might not have ended with only screaming...

Kara calmed herself, washed the glass and returned to her room, where she threw herself at her bed, took some deep breaths and tried to feel asleep.

She kept her hands firmly on her blanket for the rest of the night, while counting damned sheep.

*

Meanwhile, Mon-El sat on the porch with Baree’s head on his lap. He stroked his dog, absently. 

He was mentally exhausted. The dinner and the talk with Miss Danvers… _Kara,_ had sucked more energy from him than he expected. It seemed that walking alone for months while having his dog as his only company made his social skills rustier than before.

But somehow, he managed to look like an almost normal person. Being almost honest with Kara had been a good move.

He didn’t feel entirely content for hiding things from her, but she was not ready. He just hoped it didn't come back to kick his ass at some point.

Mon-El sighed tiredly, but smiled when Baree whimpered with concern.

“I’m ok, buddy.” He scratched his dog behind the ear. “Don’t worry,” he said, and grabbed his bokken that was lying beside him.

He stood up and took a deep breath.

Mon-El needed a perfect concentration to connect with Kai. Perfect connection of his body and soul, focused on one goal - reaching his guardian. 

He hadn't done it for years, he wasn't even sure if he still could. After all, he was the one who broke the bond. 

Deep inside, he knew it was not something that could have been broken easily.

He should have started with zazen meditation, but he had never been a fan. Sitting with closed eyes and trying to reach balance, while getting rid of all thoughts and feelings was never his forte. He had too many thoughts swirling in his head, too many memories.

Mon-El needed action and kendo practice could give him that.

He gripped his bokken, and smiled at the familiar feeling.

Mon-El put his left foot slightly behind the right, with his heel slightly raised. He relaxed his shoulders and straightened his spine. He held his bokken with both hands in front of his waist, not too close, not too far, exactly how his sensei had taught him years ago.

The tip of his wooden sword was pointed at the invisible opponent.

Mon-El calmed his breath and lifted the bokken above his head. And then brought it straight to the bottom. 

He then repeated the movement. Again. And again.

In a perfect unity of his body, sword and soul. 

After countless repeats, he added footwork. He pushed his right foot while raising his bokken, and brought it down while drawing in his left foot. And took a step back. And then repeated the move. And did it again, and again.

All that mattered was swinging his sword and moving his body in the correct way. But it soon stopped being important as well, it became automatic, his mind clear. 

Mon-El lost sense of time. His head was free of thoughts and feelings.

He was ready.

 _Kai_ , he called in his head.

But he got no answer. No feeling of familiar presence. 

_Kai_ , he called again, while swinging his sword. _Come on, bastard, I need you._

Still, there was no answer.

But he knew it was not going to be easy.

So he kept repeating the kata, unaware of the slowly rising sun, of his sore muscles and sweat running down his body, while calling the name in his head.

In the end, when he was nearly giving up for that night, a faint echo rang in his head.

 **_Oh... fuck... off..._ **

Mon-El Gand smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things:  
> 1.The Easten European war is of course something I have created for this fic (no connection to current war in Ukraine). I just needed a war and didn't want to use anything anything what is happening now or happened in the past.  
> 2.Zazen "is considered the heart of Japanese Sōtō Zen Buddhist practice. The aim of zazen is just sitting, that is, suspending all judgmental thinking and letting words, ideas, images and thoughts pass by without getting involved in them" (from wikipedia)  
> 3.Mon-El was doing kendo kata (forms). The one he was practising in this chap is called joge suburi and is a basic sword swinging.  
> And yes, I'm Japanese culture/history/society/language freak and I decided to harass you with it in this fic - not sorry,  
> 4.Lyrics: Broken Promises by Temperance  
> I'm not sure how few parts in this chap have turned out and I'm not 100% happy about them, so feel free to criticize.  
> Hope you are all healthy and safe, thank you for reading!... you are going to hate me after the next chap, lol


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